


title: to be determined

by theantivibecheck



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Bar fights, Biting, Blood, Blowjobs, Brain Ghosts, Cancer, Character Development, Consent under false pretenses, Drunkenness, EddMatt starts chapter 13, Flashbacks, Haunting, Head Injury, Hospitals, M/M, Medical Conditions, Mental Illness, One Night Stands, Parties, Promiscuity, Rough Sex, Sex, Spit As Lube, Stabbing, Strangulation, TTBD, Unsettling Dreams, Violence, Vomiting, brain ghost masturbation, brain ghosts that make your life harder, drunk tom is a man-sized child and tord is stuck with him, having sex with your brain ghost is gay or no, is having sex with your brain ghost gay please discuss in comments, little tom and matt do some roleplaying, not quite in the FUTURE yet, physical fighting, post-The End, slowburn, tom beating the shit out of apparitions like it's a typical day, tom's post nut clarity is very short-lived, you know the ones with the rich snobby people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 87,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theantivibecheck/pseuds/theantivibecheck
Summary: characters within this narrative are based off the fictional world they come from, and not the people represented by them. don't be a weirdo. be respectful.rated explicit for future chapters. tags/characters will be added as the story progresses.post-the end in which tom doesn't know where anything's supposed to go for him, both in his life and in his bodily health. despite his avoidance towards literally everything, what goes around definitely comes back around.hope you like slowburn bc im dishing it out in the third degree baby
Relationships: Edd/Matt (Eddsworld), Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 138





	1. in which you just need to realize that you Might have a problem

==> The morning sun is irritating you a bit more than usual. Someone had left the curtains open in your window, and that someone was probably you. Or Matt, since he particularly enjoys the view out your window even though he lives immediately next door. His quirks came with him to this new place, you suppose, but that’s fine. It’s only the attempt to make things ‘normal’; things back to ‘the way they were before’. What way, you’d ask. They’d tell you before The End. You question what The End refers to, Edd gives you a look suggesting you should know what that refers to. Well, you do, but you didn’t want to be the one to say it.

==> Your name is THOMAS--- Or wait, you prefer Tom? That’s fine too, you agree. Your name is Tom and you’re having your weekly morning hangover after a blurry Saturday night. You’re less for the party and more for the refreshments; less for the people and more for the favors. Then again, the definition of ‘party’ being used here is Discord calls filled with jokes and laughs and zombie video games, with lots and lots of booze.

==> It’s kind of adorable, especially considering you live next door to the two friends in question. Your complex doesn’t really allow you all to be in the same room comfortably, at least not for a long amount of time. It was Edd’s idea to adapt to transitioning to Discord for your misadventures. You guys still hang out in person, but there’s nothing refreshing like playing chubby bunny with Flamin’ Hot Cheetos over 12-pixel webcams at 3am. You never win those, either.

==> The sound of your bed creaking as you fidget is followed by the 8-point cracking of your spine as you sit up. There’s no use to you sitting in bed all day while your migraine weighs you down. Matt has been particularly helpful with sharing some ‘homemade hangover remedies’ with you in hopes of improving your condition. In fact, his efforts are the reason why you’re less frequently inhibited in the first place, bless his soul. Some days can’t be perfect, and this day is no different.

==> As you stand up, the folds of your uneven socks pressing against your feet, you catch a glance at the full body mirror in front of your bed. Your hair’s a mess, the bags under your eyes are easily Gucci, and you need to shave. You honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve shaved. It’s not a full grown beard; a little patchy here and there. Your hands move to tap on your cheeks to perk yourself up a little. You catch a hint of your own breath and it is ghastly.

==> A groan leaves your mouth as you bring yourself to walk from your bed to the door. Your eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the light yet, and you’ve noticed that it’s taking longer and longer each time you wake up. You wonder if that ‘future’ version of you was onto something about cancer.

==> Well… you also can’t say it’s not the first time you’ve considered it.

==> You really should go to a doctor.

==> Well, you did go to a doctor. Once. You’ve got a pair of glasses that you forget to wear until Edd nags you half to death. You even managed to grab them and put them on your face on your way out. They make things a little easier… but….

==> You really, really should go back to the doctor.

==> Your footsteps are reflected by the creaks in the floor as you walk out of your room to be immediately met by your combined kitchen and living room. Yeah, this place is super small compared to the house, but it’s secure and tidy enough for any needs for a single person. However, you question the validity of its ‘break-in free policy’, because Edd is at your stove.

==> You know, your cooking stove. Making some eggs. You give him a squint and a whistle, and he perks up from what he’s doing.

==> Edd smiles at you and spares a good morning followed by a remark about you remembering your glasses. You huff, stepping past him to drink out of the milk carton from your refrigerator. Edd explains he came to make you breakfast since it’s your day off, and he wanted to make you feel a little better. You ask him what he means, and he goes quiet.

_Your hard time adjusting, remember…? We kind of had a heart-to-heart last night._

==> Oh. Right. God, you need to stop drinking.

\-------

“...Do you really not remember?” Edd tilted his head as if looking at Tom, but had his eyes focused on the eggs.

“A little bit.” Another sip of milk. “Did I wretch out all of my guts to you again?”

“Most of them, yeah.” He chuckles, turning his attention to the toaster that had yet to be turned on. “Nothing aside from the usual. You hate your job, you hate your body, you wish telemarketers would stop calling you on Sundays, you hate Tord…”

_Tord._

“So nothing I shouldn’t have said, you mean.”

“Yeah, I guess. But you know…. Heh, I guess I’m worrying about you a little more lately, huh?” Edd admits this sheepishly, pushing down the toaster handle to get it started. “It’s been like… 4 years now? Even I went to therapy, but… you still seem stuck on something.”

Tom lowers the milk from his mouth. “I miss the house.”  
“I do too, Tom. What else?”

“What do you mean ‘what else’?”

“Something else is eating at you. You know you’re one of my best friends, right? I kind of have a knack for knowing when you’re upset about something.”

“It’s nothing.” Tom replies dismissively. He walks over to one of the cabinets above the sink, at least taking the dear pleasure of setting the table. Two plates and two mugs will probably be fine.

Edd wasn’t satisfied with Tom’s answer. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Absolute?”

“Couldn’t be more clear, sir.”

Edd sighed; there was no getting this out of him unless he wasn’t sober. “Alright.”

Ah, the coffee pot is already set up. Tom silently blesses Edd as he flips the switch. “It’s not a super big deal, really. You’d know if it was. Hell, you’d probably lock us both in my bathroom until I spilled.”

“Heh, I guess so.” Edd lets out a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

“And definitely wouldn’t be the last.”

“Damn straight.”

A little bit of laughter is exchanged, but it’s very noticeably dry. Edd hasn’t let go of the previous topic, and Tom is continuing to conspire ways to change the subject if necessary. The eggs were done at this point, and the coffee wasn’t far behind. The two were already sitting at the table, exchanging a small bit of banter in between bites.

It felt oddly nice to be sitting at a table eating breakfast again, even if Matt wasn’t present. Even if it wasn’t at the kitchen table they both remembered, marked up by the lack of cup coasters and the scratches of silverware. There was a bit of a sad look in Edd’s eyes as he ate, but Tom knew better than to press on it. Not only would he not hear the end of Edd’s own issues, but… well. It’s a topic he would rather not dive into.

**_Tord._ **

“So, Tom.” Edd speaks again after a little pause. “What are you doing today?”

“The gym. Laundry. Probably game after that.” Tom’s weekends were pretty basic. He spent a lot more time at the gym nowadays than he did before. The two other men were a bit perplexed, but encouraged Tom’s sudden need to be active. “You?”

“Ah… just lounge at home. I think Matt works today.”

“Sucks to be a guy who can’t have weekends off.”

“He doesn’t always work weekends. Sometimes they need an extra person over there.” Edd really loves to get defensive for other people, doesn’t he? Well, at least for Matt. Are they dating yet? Tom almost wants to ask, but he keeps his mouth shut with his coffee mug.

“I got it, I got it. I know stuff’s been weird lately.”

“What about you though? How’s your job been?”

Tom works at a factory that manufactures and engineers equipment for the military. It’s a high paying, physically-intensive job that distracts him from the inside of his own head and tires him out enough to sip on Smirnoff until he passes out. It’s how he would like it; plus, he’d be able to get small gifts for his friends from time to time. Generosity is always a plus, even if he doesn’t always look it.

“Tiring. Frustrating. My one floor manager is a total dick and insists that my condition---” Tom used a wiggling finger to point to his eyes “--- as an incentive for me to switch departments, but I’m arguably the best in that room. Plus, they won’t move me unless I promote.”

“Hey, at least they value your work ethic! You’re definitely a lot better off than when you started.”

“At least someone does.” Tom’s moreso referring to Edd; as irritable as Tom is in the morning, he does appreciate Edd’s company. One corner of his mouth curls up for a small smile.

“Well…” Edd’s eyes move to the clock on the wall. “It’s getting to mid-morning.”

“It is. You got a hot date?”

“A hot date with my ironing table, yeah.” Edd has gotten really into ironing his clothes. And he means all of his clothes, even his hoodies. Sometimes Tom will let Edd iron his clothes just to keep him quiet. Tom has no idea where Edd picked up this habit from, but he’s okay with it as long as Edd’s happy.

“Hot, figuratively and literally. Well, I won’t keep your date waiting.” Tom stands up from the table, grabbing the empty plates. “I can take care of clean-up duty. You’ve got other stuff to do.”

“Aw, you’re a peach.” Edd shoots him a playful wink before standing up. “After your game sesh, we’re still having our movie night, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Matt’s place this time?”

“You know it. See you later!”

\-------

_1, 2, 3, 4….._

==> You count your reps silently as you work your squats. You don’t really organize your routines through ‘sets’, rather you just keep going until your body’s shaking and you try to beat the number next time. And then you repeat that until you literally can’t move anymore. Perhaps you should adapt to a safer method, but this is also getting you results.

==> Right, sorry. You’re Tom again. Well, still Tom. Not like you ever stopped.

==> Shortly after Edd departed back next door, you changed out of your PJs to head to the gym. You try to go at least 5 days a week, 2 of those days being the weekend. You don’t know what wire snapped in your brain to make you become less of a homebody and more of a gymbody, but you’re not complaining too much. It keeps you on your feet, it keeps your guard up, and it keeps your reflexes sharp.

_11, 12, 13, 14…._

==> You sort of regret not shaving now. Maybe even a trim would do you some good, but the added facial hair makes you look like an old man. You’re inches away from your 30’s, and you swear you’re seeing gray hairs already. Given the circumstances of the last couple of years, gray hairs would probably be the least of your problems.

==> You decide 20 is a healthy number, before gently putting the weight back down on the floor and standing up straight. The smell of sweat and rubber fills the air as you finally readjust yourself to your surroundings. The gym got a bit noisier since you started working out and you can already feel yourself on edge. You don’t particularly like going on the weekends since it tends to be more crowded, but this arrangement has to do until you can get your work situation in order.

==> You catch a glance of yourself in the wall mirror as you return your equipment and wipe it down. You look a little bit perkier due to your work, but the fractures in your eyes don’t exactly make you look less ghostly than you already do. You still get some looks at the gym, but you don’t know if it’s because of your eyes or if it’s because your nipple piercings are very clearly popping through your shirt. Maybe both? Probably both.

==> Whatever, it’s laundry time. You wanna get this stuff out of the way as soon as you can. It’s supposed to storm tonight, and you aim to get as many errands done as possible before your shift tomorrow morning.

==> As you’re turning towards the locker room, you feel a tap on your arm.

==> Oh, just some random girl. Sports bra, yoga pants hugging her waist as her navel ring flashes in the light of the room. She’s brunette, and pretty easy on the eyes and seems very eased by your eyes.

==> You, however, are not particularly in the mood for getting hit on at the gym, much less on a day like this. You don’t really register her appearance, as you just maintain eye contact as she goes on about hey, I saw your form earlier and it’s super tight! You think you wanna squat with me sometime?

==> You know what she means. You’re not new to these euphemisms. Definitely not your first time in the rodeo. She doesn’t stop yapping, so you can’t really get in an answer to her question or put in an excuse to leave. You barely even notice her hand reaching to stroke your arm. Her nail extensions are a pretty shade of red, but a little chipped.

_Red._

==> You snap out of it. If you’re going to get lost in your own head, you’re going to do it in the comfort of your own bedroom.

==> You put up a hand to silence her, and quietly explain that this will have to wait for another time. She asks for your number. You say you don’t have a phone. She asks you what’s strapped to your arm. You tell her it’s your boyfriend’s phone, and book it.

==> You definitely could have done that better.

==> But for now, it’s homebound for the washing machine, and you ain’t makin’ any pit stops. 

==> You do, however, realize that you’re rocking a steady migraine, probably thanks to your alcoholic escapades of the previous night. Ignoring it and dealing with it will have to do for the drive home, for you’re not delaying your desire for the smell of your apartment for a second longer than you need to.

_...Here, in which it should be pretty stormy tonight. Due to the anticipated frequency of thunder, lightning, and high speed winds, power outages are expected to occur later in the night…_

==> The car radio buzzed as you made your way back home. The weather didn’t sound promising, and you’re dreading the scenario if the power goes out while you’re hanging out with those two goons. Your head is pounding now, and you’re just hoping you can get over the pain before the antics of tonight. You just want to get stuff done, be productive, but here you are with a headache. A really sucky headache.

==> Maybe you should go to the doctor.

==> As you spoke with Edd earlier, as he watched you fiddle with your glasses as you were trying to drink your coffee, you knew that sentence was trying to leave his mouth. He reminds you every time he sees you, and you tell him that you already went and all they gave you were these stupid glasses. Matt would try to follow up with some weird scenario where if you didn’t go soon, it could get worse. You would shrug it off; doctors aren’t really your friends.

==> Still, it wouldn’t hurt, right?

==> You could have sworn to yourself that you made your own decision to not go final, but now you seem to be having second thoughts. Maybe Edd’s nagging is getting to you now.

==> Ugh, your head hurts.

==> But the parking lot to your complex is in sight, and perhaps you go a few miles over just to get there quickly. Keys go in your pocket, and your gym bag gets slung on your shoulder as you quickly head inside. Clouds are rolling over and making it darker than it should be this time of day, but you’re pretty accustomed to the lack of sunlight in London.

==> You spare a glance to the tenant parking lot, and it looked like Matt and Edd were both out. You hope they can make it back before the weather gets bad, but you’re not too worried.

_Hey. Tom._

==> You turn around and--- oh, cool. That’s great. It’s Pau.

==> Why is Pau here? It’s your fucking day off. You didn’t want this to happen now of all times.

==> You tell him to spare you the fluff, and you let him know that Edd’s car isn’t here. He tells you he’s not looking for Edd, he’s looking for you. You tell him if it’s about that damn promotion they’re trying to push on you, they can shove it. Pau’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration, letting a hand drag down his face as he stepped closer.

==> In return, you take a step back. Pau is trying to get you to listen to reason, and you’re really not having any of it.

==> He lights a cigarette, taking a drag before explaining that the big man in charge would love to have you closer to a more corporate position. You still refuse, and you literally cannot express any more intensely that you don’t care. You sneer at him, asking if he’s got that other guy in the back seat with him as backup. Pau sighs, flicking the ash of his cigarette to the ground.

==> What’s it gonna take for him to convince you it’s a good idea, he asks you. You tell him that there’s nothing he or anyone else can do. You are perfectly comfortable where you are job-wise, and Pau’s tiptoeing the line of you quitting on the spot if he keeps insisting. Pau manages to keep his cool, but his sudden glare of anger is obvious, if only for a second.

==> Pau turns on his heel, blowing smoke as he turns, and begins to walk back to the red car waiting for his return. He tells you he’ll get you one way or another, and you tell him good luck.

==> God, you despise him. You don’t care if Edd’s kinda-sorta friends with him. Fuck Pau, fuck his friend, fuck his boss, and fuck this place all of you knuckleheads work in.

==> You really need to go job searching.

==> And a drink.

==> Nothing like layering a hangover with another hangover.

==> You told Edd you’d ease up on the day drinking, but… Pau riled you a bit too much.

==> Besides, Edd and Matt aren’t here. They’re not your parents. You will, however, take a shower first. Because you feel absolutely disgusting.


	2. the only thing i hate more than myself is the projection of myself that hates me just as much

==> You are now EDD.

==> Hi Edd!

==> No, really, someone’s saying hi to you.

==> Matt creeps up to your side, and you weren’t aware that he decided to grab groceries the same time as you. It feels just like old times… though the very utterance of that phrase puts a knot in your stomach. The smell of whatever obnoxious cologne he chose for the day stings your nostrils, and you resist the urge to gag.

==> He asks you if you’re excited for tonight, and you answer him affirmatively. You’ve made it a mission to stock up on soda and snacks for the occasion. You only do these movie nights once a month, a major adjustment from your weekly Friday night movie binge. You’ve always missed that; maybe someday you could all move back in together.

==> Matt continues to go on about what he’s buying and how his week’s been, pushing his cart next to yours as you surveyed the shelves. Your list was on your phone, and you were finally almost to the bottom.

==> While grocery shopping is important, and Matt is one of your dearest friends, you’re focused on other things today.

==> Hey Matt, you say, to get his attention. Matt perks up from checking out his face on his phone to look at you. He asks you what’s up; you seem quiet. You ask him if he’s spoken to Tom one-on-one lately, and he can’t say he has recently. You tell him you had breakfast with him this morning while Matt was at work. Matt nods, doing a bad job of hiding his clearly upset and jealous expression.

==> You ask Matt if Tom’s gone to the doctor recently, and he can’t recall other than the first time. You ask Matt if you should both tag team and tie him up for another appointment. Matt’s expression changes to conflict, and he asks about how this came up in the first place.

_Hey, uh, why the eye thing?  
Remember that laser you took to the face?  
Uh, yeah?  
Cancer._

==> Pretty weird day, you remember, but that split second interaction has weighed down on your mind, even all these years later. You give Matt the short explanation, and he nods in understanding. You wonder if Tom even remembers that conversation he had with his future self that day. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to think about it. You can’t say you blame him for the latter.

==> Matt asks you if you two should talk to Tom about it tonight, and you say you’re not sure. Maybe tonight isn’t the night, you reckon. Maybe tonight should just be a night of fun and movies and hanging out before the work week starts up again tomorrow. You wouldn’t want to put more of a damper on Tom’s mood, anyway.

==> You wonder if… no, that’s not a good idea. Tom would kill you if you tried that.

==> Matt continues to walk with you as you’re completely lost in your thoughts, and completely oblivious to Matt’s ongoing conversation with himself.

\-------

“So, as I was saying.” A very familiar, deeply accented voice fills Tom’s ears. Tom and the other person were sitting at a small, wooden table, a cup of coffee on each side. “Explain to me why you’re here.”

“What do you _mean_ why I’m here? You called for me.” Tom replies, pretty annoyed, and trying to hide such a thing by sipping the bitter, lukewarm coffee next to his hand. He leaned back into the velvet lining of the chair. “You always call for me to come in here, and I don’t get any say in whether or not to go.”

The person chuckles. “You have a choice to not go.”

“Not really.”

“Regardless, you’re here, whether you want to tell me why you even listened or not.”

“Is this some shit about facing my demons or something? Because I’m really not having it right now, Tord. I thought you were gone after---”

“ _What?_ You think I _died_ in that?” Naturally, Tom pictured Tord as he was, prior to that accident. Messy brown hair, red hoodie, insidious smirk constantly on his face as he spoke.

“I mean, I got that impression, yeah. To be far, it’d be well deserved, prick.”

“I suppose it would be, but that is not the case now.” Tord takes a sip of his own mug.

“So then what do you want?”

“No, stupid Tom, it’s what you want. I would not be here, if not for you. This is your brain. Any actions, motions, words I speak, all come from you, my friend.”

“I am _not_ your friend.” Tom growled. “That should be _set in fucking stone_ by now.”

“It should be. So should a lot of things between you and I.” And Tord just laughs. Tom feels like he’s being spoken down to. It’s enough to make Tom stand up abruptly from his seat, the screeching sound of the chair scraping the wooden floor echoing through the unknown room.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t make you eat your own teeth, Tord.”

He gives Tom an indifferent shrug. “I don’t know, it does not seem to matter either way, considering I’m not real---”

“Then get OUT of my head already! I’m so sick of seeing your stupid fucking face in my nightmares!”

“You must be the one to do so. Did you know that dreaming about someone you have not seen in a long time means there may be some yearning behind such a thing? Unfinished business? Unresolved conflicts? Unrequited fe---”

Tom snapped. He threw the wooden table separating the two of them, disregarding the shattering ceramic mugs hitting the floor. He jumped onto Tord, who didn’t even bother to move in retaliation as they both went to the floor. Tom pinned Tord between himself, and the chair Tord was still sitting in.

“Aha. Yes, I see. You know this is how this ends every time, ri---”

_Punch._

“You can hit me as many times as you want, Tom. It changes no--”

_Punch._

“Look at you, you’re only going to be sore when you wa---”

_Punch. Punch. **Punch.**_

Tord’s nose started bleeding, bruises surfacing on the skin of his cheeks as Tom threw his last punch. His smirk doesn’t disappear despite whatever pain he might be feeling. Tom finally stops his strikes and takes a breath. His deep breaths echo in the empty room, and Tord just keeps staring up at him as he composes himself.

“You know, punching me to shut me up… does not make me shut up. Did you not learn that yet?”

“God, your smug voice annoys me.” Tom spits on his face.

Tord rolls his eyes. “Wow, so cute. What are you, a child?”

“Do you wanna keep getting punched?”

“Not particularly, unless you’re getting some sort of pleasure from it. Which you might be.” Tom slapped his hands onto his face and groaned. He was going to talk this stupid fictional apparition of Tord in circles if he keeps this up. “But going back to what I was saying…”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s my brain, I run this show, somehow I am influencing literally everything happening right now. Whatever you think I’m doing, it’s not true.”

“Tom, come on now. You cannot lie to the person who knows your mind almost as well as you do.”

“You’re pushing it.” Tom glared down at Tord, whose expression didn’t change.

“No, really! Could you put the brakes on your temper for a second? I am merely a projection of your self-conscience. Just by the very way you imagine me now---” And he wiggles a little underneath Tom. “---is very… telling. Dare I say if you did not have anything unresolved, perhaps we would not be in this situation now.”

“I literally have this dream once a week----”

“Do you not think it’s for a reason?”

“You’re not my fucking therapist, Tord. You’re testing my patience.”

“Anything I say, or do, in this moment, is something influenced by you. Drinking that stale coffee, sharing a table together, even you getting on top of me and beating the shit out of me. Even me now, rambling uncharacteristi--”

Tom slaps him in the face, and he just laughs back at him.

“What, do you think I’m a ghost? You think I died and this is my way of haunting you? If that’d be the case I would be with Matt and Edd as well!”

“And what makes you think that I don’t think that?”

“‘Cause I know you don’t, stupid.” Tord sighs. “Listen, had this been going the way it should have, I would have decked you faster than you could have taken your second sip. Do you really think I’d be taking your shit right now?”

“I don’t know.” Tom’s answer sounded empty. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe Edd and Matt were dealing with similar and eerie dreams and maybe they were on the verge of losing it as well. Tord only stared at Tom, his smile fading.

“You need to wake up soon. Your body is demanding it. You cannot make yourself sleep just to finish this conversation.”

“I didn’t plan to.” Tom finally gets up from Tord, wiping the blood on his knuckles onto his pant leg.

“Welp, I guess that is it for this time around, huh? See you on the flipside, Thomas!”

\-------

==> You’re back to being Tom, except awake.

==> You’re drenched in your own sweat, tangled in your shower towels, and the only sound in the room is the buzzing of your dryer.

==> You look on the nightstand and only see your bottle of Smirnoff and an empty shot glass. Maybe you really needed that nap, but you didn’t need that.

==> These recurring dreams began a few months after The End. At first, they were just glimpses into the horror of Tord’s actions, the suffocating feeling of being trampled by broken furniture and being inches from a hot, fiery death. Now, they’re a bit more articulate; having full conversations with some sort of form of Tord you can’t quite put your finger on. He’s awfully vague, and somehow more annoying than you remember Tord ever being.

==> You’d rather die than tell Edd and Matt, because they would drag your ass to a therapist faster than you could take your next drink. You didn’t need that obligation on top of everything else. For now, you’ll keep these to yourself, and hope that the next dream in Tord’s tea party is a little less confusing.

_Tord._

==> The name echoes in your thoughts as you finally get to your feet. The clock reads that it’s past 8pm; it’s almost time for you to head to Matt’s. Maybe you’d watch a movie or two, and then off to sleep for work tomorrow. You dread the eventual start of your shift, but it’s certainly better than oversleeping and getting another dream.

==> You changed out of your gym clothes before showering, and are now just rocking your normal blue hoodie and some shorts. Nothing too fancy; Matt doesn’t require a three-piece suit for a movie night, thankfully.

==> A few minutes after gathering your bearings, you’re out and knocking on Matt’s door. It takes a moment for him to answer, but he’s ecstatic to see you. Before you can even say hi, Matt pulls you into the doorway with a hug and kicks the door shut.

==> You’re like man, Matt, you’re a lot more affectionate than usual. He says really? You say yeah, a little. Matt just shrugs, he’s happy to see you. He looks forward to these movie nights every month. Edd also flashes a smile at you, tipping his open can of soda into his mouth for a sip. You’re pulled to the couch, and squished between the two of them on the cushions. Matt’s couch is a bit small, but you’re all still so used to being in each other’s face, you almost appreciate it.

==> You glance around the room while Matt sets things up. Go figure, he still has just as many pictures of himself as his old room did. Not that you mind; it’s not your place. He at least has a few pictures of you guys together hanging up. Most of them are more recent, present in the park near the complex or in one of your apartments. There’s one from the old house, and it’s got a fourth person in it.

_To--_

==> _\---m, hey Tom_ , Edd says to your left. You turn to him and ask him what’s up. Edd says you look a bit out of your element; you’re spacing out a bit more than usual, and you very clearly smell like vodka. You grimace, asking him if it’s really that obvious you’re not feeling that hot. He says yes, and reiterates his point from this morning.

==> You can see the worry in his eyes. Edd isn’t normally too expressive with negative emotions, but you can tell that whatever he’s thinking about concerning you is really eating at him. He can’t say much right now, especially with Matt just about within earshot, but his eyes and facial expressions speak volumes. You glance back at the photograph with four people in it; all smiling, all posed stupidly in front of that old house… god, how old is that picture? You can’t believe you used to do your hair like that.

==> Edd’s still staring at you, though his eyes have diverted their attention to your left arm. That scar is jagged, but healed. You haven’t even bothered to try and make it fade more; apparently it makes you look pretty cool at the gym. Edd, however, always feels a ting of sadness whenever he happens to see it.

==> His eyes move to Matt, and he remembers the black eye he had to help that poor boy nurse for almost two weeks.

==> He then looks down at his hands. His fingertips; calloused, sore, tired.

==> And back at you, though you hadn’t made eye contact with him yet.

==> He grabs your hand to get your attention, and you jump a little. His eyes are almost pleading you, and you can’t help but get a little flustered. Fuck those puppy eyes, man. No matter how violent this guy will get over the stupidest things sometimes, those eyes seem to kill you at every turn.

==> You sigh. God fucking damn it.

==> You ask him if he’s really that bent on getting you to go back to the doctor. He nods silently. You ask him if this was the plan tonight; that he meant to confront you about this now. He says, well, he was going to prod you more this morning, but you didn’t look like you were in the mood. You tell him he guessed right. He asks if you still have nightmares, you tell him yes. He asks if you want to talk about them, and you say not yet.

==> He says he has them too. You say oh really? He nods, a bit sheepishly, averting his eyes towards Matt. Apparently Matt’s on the same boat, and he hasn’t slept well in a pretty long time.

==> Edd asks you if Tord is in them, too. You bite your lower lip and look away. Edd gives you a sad smile, and lets go of your hand.

_Sometimes, I miss Tord, Tom. Do you?_


	3. fellas, is it gay if your brain ghost jerks you off if you literally cant be bothered to cum inside of your one night stand, who shares an uncanny resemblance to your worst enemy, while your brain ghost also resembles your worst enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heterosexuality is a myth and tom proves it

==> Aha, you are now Tord.

==> No, not the real Tord. You’re Tom’s weird dream version of Tord. The more annoying Tord. Tord number two. Number Tword.

==> Alright, getting out of hand here.

==> You are still technically also Tom, but for the sake of preventing confusion, you will be Tom from a different point of view. Also known as Tword.

==> Of course you were present for that conversation; you listen to everything Tom does in his day. You are an apparition of Tom’s brain, unable to let go of the past. A splinter of the real Tord, frozen in time, preserving less bittersweet memories from before. You are aware of Tom’s deteriorating state, both physically and mentally. You can’t really do much, considering that you are still Tom, and Tom isn’t doing jack shit for himself.

==> You are, however, watching Tom as he has a screaming fit into the floor of whatever eerie room he keeps conjuring whenever he sleeps. You’re not used to seeing Tom two times in a row. You think that, or rather _know_ , the conversation with Edd struck a nerve.

==> Tom did his routine of having a few sips of his drink before beating the shit out of you. You tell him the same stuff every time, because apparently he still doesn’t understand. Now he’s just sort of… in the middle of the floor, screaming incomprehensibly while you sit and watch him. You can’t really do much for him; it’s not your job to console him.

==> You have no immediate desires in terms of getting him to a doctor or making him get better. You merely exist to tell him how it is. No filter, no fucks given, and you do it pretty well even if Tom doesn’t listen. Even as a splinter of the real deal, Tom still hates you.

==> Finally, you hear a scratch on the floor as you’ve noticed Tom is now facing you again. A mix of anguish and tears stain his face as you can just barely see his full expression in the dim room.

==> He asks you what the fuck you’re looking at, and you reply with nothing much. His expression gets more intense, and you lift your hands in surrender before he has a chance to think about charging you again. You tell him there’s zero point to what he’s doing right now, and he tells you to shut the fuck up.

==> Welp, fair enough. You zip up for a few minutes as he stares as his own bloodied hands.

==> You ask him if he plans to sleep for the night, or wake up an hour before his alarm goes off. He says he’s not sure, and he finally stands up from his spot on the floor. He walks towards you, and stops about a foot away. It appears that he’s silently contemplating something, but you can’t personally read his expression. You guess it’s probably whether or not to go for a round two on your face.

==> He finally speaks. He says he has a question for you, you tell him to go for it. He asks you if, within any constructs of this mind, you or him know where the harpoon gun is.

==> Harpoon gun… wow, he still has that thing? Wait, of course he does, but why is he asking?

==> You say you don’t immediately know. He shrugs, sitting down in front of you. Seems he finally calmed down. Perhaps he really wants to sleep the night this time around.

==> He has another question. He asks you what he wants. Not what you want, specifically, but what he wants. Because apparently, you know more than him, and he backs that comment with a split second glare in your direction before he drops it.

==> You explain to him that, unfortunately, in this instance, you only know as much as he does. Which is, suffice to say, not much. He goes what, does he need to fucking meditate or something. You sigh, saying that him getting angry and impatient is only prolonging his discovery of the answer.

==> He grimaces. He asks you if he should go to the doctor. This is the first time, in the years that this has been occurring, that you’ve given him a straight answer.

_Yes, Tom._

==> Finally, he’s getting somewhere.

==> Jesus Christ, he’s so fucking stupid.

==> Well Tword, it’s time to become Tom again. The alarm is going off.

\--------

==> Unfortunately, you are Tom again. If you were still Tword, you’d still be asleep. You really hate those dreams.

==> You silence the alarm on your phone, looking through your notifications as you drag yourself out of bed. Mostly just missed messages from your group chat with Matt and Edd, gushing about how much awesomeness you missed from leaving the movie night early. Listen, it’s not your fault you work a Monday through Friday schedule. It pays the bills, damn it.

==> You begin typing, and after your message is sent, you rush to get dressed.

_Hey, gonna make an appointment during my lunch break. Will keep you updated._

==> Within 10 minutes, to-go coffee in hand, you’re heading to your car and ready to get this day over with.

==> Seriously, you haven’t even gotten there yet and you’re already over it. You get more grief than pleasure from your job, and some days the money’s barely worth it. You know the second you step in there, Pau’s gonna sniff you out and look you up and down for even the slightest piece out of place. He’ll ask you how your weekend is only to interrupt you and ask you about that stupid fucking promotion again.

==> If you didn’t have a reputation to uphold, you’d give Pau a promotion from a pretty face to punching bag.

==> You know for certain the power didn’t go out last night. However, right now it’s raining so hard it puts Noah’s Ark to shame. You swear you’re going to start hydroplaning as your car teeters down the hill towards your workplace. One flash of your ID and a security clearance later, you’re safe from the rain.

==> With it being first shift, not everyone is here, so it’s pretty much fair game with your parking spot. Today, however, you decide to park as far away from the door as you can. You wouldn’t mind the extra walking; you’ve got a lot to think about. You take a peek to make sure no one’s around, and you get up and get out.

==> Your sleepy conversation with Tword is buzzing in your head. He actually said yes to something; something that actually is good for your wellbeing. You don’t know if that’s some weird moment to be called an epiphany, or you really are going crazy.

==> The other thing stuck in your head… yeah. What Edd said. About missing someone. Missing Tord.

==> At that time, it took every fiber of your being not to lash out at him. He looked so sad, and you couldn’t bring yourself to coat your next words with any venom. Instead, you just sighed, smiled sympathetically, and changed the subject. You may not have noticed it, but Edd knew that he must’ve made you uncomfortable.

==> You sigh heavily. You kick the ground as you leave wet footprints behind. Well, at least you’re not the only one of your friends hung up on the past.

==> _Beep. Click._

==> Oh motherfucker.

==> _Fucking Pau._

==> Was he waiting for you? Did he install a GPS tracker on your left asscheek while you weren’t looking or something? He’s motioning you over, and you make sure every ounce of disgust is present on your face as you begrudgingly approach him off the path to the floor.

==> He asks you if you parents ever told you _if you keep making a face like that, it’s going to get stuck_. You just tell him to make it quick. He grins, almost a little too much, as he explains to you that this isn't about the promotion. You sigh in relief, but your sigh is immediately returned for a refund when you realize who’s with him.

==> Brunette, curvy, with gray eyes twinkling as she looks in your direction. She has a smile on as she stands next to Pau. She’s wearing a lanyard with that tag on it that says new crew member! in bright, bold red letters. She’s in casual clothing, like yourself; red hoodie and tights, you suppose? Wait, that’s not even the point of this.

==> That’s the girl from yesterday, idiot!!

==> Pau explains that you’re giving a floor tour to this newbie. This trainee. You ask him how long she’s been here, apparently she’s been in training for a few months and now is suddenly getting on the floor. You find this strange, since you thought that the standard was six months training or hourly equivalent. Are you going to question the guy who signs your paychecks? Well, not this time.

==> The girl finally speaks for herself. She introduces herself as Tori, and offers you her hand to shake. You take it, quietly introducing yourself--- only for her to interrupt, saying she remembers you from the gym. You say oh yeah, that was you? And she says yes, that was her. She sees that you still have your boyfriend’s phone.

==> Pau raises an eyebrow, but he asks no questions. He leaves you to it, telling you to ping him from your cubicle when you’re done.

==> Mhm, ahem.

==> Well, you’re trying to do this tour. You really are. Dare you say that you’re trying your hardest at your job in the 4 years you’ve been here. There’s something about her…

_Red._

==> ...that is very distracting…..

_Gray eyes flashing in your direction, the way she looks at you it reminds you of_

==> ...that you can’t put your finger on.

_The way she smiles at you just looks so condescending you almost want to_

==> You write it off as her being cute. To be honest, you _definitely_ think she’s cute now that you’re with her and spending time with her. She’s got a little bounce in her step, she’s got an accent, she’s got this thing she does where she twirls her hair in her fingers while she listens to you talk. You told her it might be a good idea to tie her hair up, and she complies. Even with her hair up, you think she looks even cuter.

==> This is the most relaxed you’ve been on a shift. The tour’s taking a bit longer than it should? Okay, fine. She’s barely listening to anything you’re saying, keeps asking about _you_ and your _job_ and your _friends_ and your _work-out routine_? Okay, that’s also fine. You know, you think Pau can go shove it. You haven’t had fun like this in a while. Even if this is only a one-night stand, this is something you need.

==> Who mentioned anything about sex? It seems like you’re thinking with the wrong head, young man. Edd mentioned you have a habit with sticking your dick in crazy hence your previous escapades. _Or getting the crazy in you, whatever you’re into I guess!_ Listen, you told Edd and Matt you’d make this appointment, and you would do this after you’re done with Tori. Then you can go and have your fun. Thank god the boys didn’t wanna hang out tonight; this is timed all too perfectly.

==> A couple of hours pass. Maybe. You sort of lost track of time and by the time you reached the end of your walk with Tori, you had already exchanged numbers. She texted you a heart to let you know it was her, and you’ve been texting back and forth for most of the day. You do ping Pau, and he just brushes you off with yeah, good job, go back to work before hanging up. You thought he’d be a bigger stick up your ass today, but fuck it. This is your day. You feel like the king the world. _You’re gonna get laiiiiiiiiiiid tonight!_

\---------

Edd is bouncing up and down in his seat at the morning chats he received from Tom. He decided to sleep over Matt’s despite his own place being a few steps and a turn away. Matt’s barely awake, Edd has been rereading Tom’s texts over and over. He couldn’t be happier.

“Matt! This is good!”

“Mhm.” Matt mumbles into his empty coffee mug. God, this coffee maker sucks. Please work faster. “So he’s gonna go see what’s wrong, right?”

“Or something, you know! I’m just glad it seems like he’s trying to get better. You know he hasn’t been himself lately.”

Matt’s more fixated on the mirror he placed over his kitchen sink. “Yeah… I think you’re more excited than he is, Edd.”

Edd didn’t care; he couldn’t be more happy. He just hoped that Tom would follow through with what he said, and also that the results weren’t anything too bad. Edd almost wanted to ask him if he wanted the two of them to tag along, but Edd figured that might be a question for after Tom’s shift. Edd knew how much Tom’s job drained him, and he wanted to give him his space.

“Matt. You wanna go out for breakfast?” Edd asked, a hopeful look in his eye.

“We can, but can I get ready first?”

“I don’t know, is it going to take you more than 20 minutes?”

Matt almost looked offended by the question. Almost. “....N-no! I’ve never taken that long.”

Edd held up his phone, tapping the screen. “You want me to time you this time? Last time you almost hit 45 minutes.”

“That was because it was a humid day and you know it! You know me and moisture don’t always mix.” He puts down his mug. Coffee? What coffee? Now this is war. “You wanna do this? Fine! Start the timer now!”

Edd chuckles, tapping his phone screen to start the timer as Matt sprints into the next room. Oh boy, Edd loved Matt. Their chemistry as people and friends hasn’t faulted, even after all these years. They’re inseparable, despite the odds, and they have Tom right there with them. Sure, they’re missing Tord, but the three of them have managed to survive on their up to this point. Speaking of Tord, actually…

Edd looks back down at his phone. He minimized the timer app and went to his messages. As he scrolled way, way down to the bottom, he found a chat log between him and Tord. He found himself reading through it from time to time, trying to let the good memories he have replace the rude awakening he received 4 years ago. Matt told him it wasn’t good to do, but Edd still did it anyways. Every once in a while.

As of recently, however, with Tom’s issues becoming more apparent, and their conversation last night, Edd found himself reading the conversations end to end. He thought about texting Tord, or even calling him. He figured that Tord had changed his number long ago, and that it was pointless to try. Edd didn’t think he would ever have the means to move on from all this. Maybe Tom’s having the same problem as he is, he thought.

He knew Matt was also having issues, but it seemed like he phased in and out of his episodes. Perhaps his memory wasn’t fully back yet. Maybe that was for the best.

“You! I TOLD YOU!” Matt’s sudden entrance snapped Edd out of his thoughts, and frankly scared the everloving shit out of him. “I even timed myself! 20 minutes on the dot, Edd!”

“...Could you be louder, please? Don’t think they heard you next door.” Edd checked the timer. It was just over the 20 minute mark, but he did neglect to stop it, after all.

“You know Tom’s not home. He can’t hear us… wait, what day is it?” Matt scrambles for the calendar, and Edd just laughs. God, this idiot.

“It’s Monday, Matt. He works. He said he’s going to make an appointment, and it’s our night to try that new bar you wanted to go to!”

“Oh, right!” Matt spots the note he made for himself on the calendar; it’s circled in an obnoxiously thick purple marker. “Just… before breakfast…”

“Coffee? Yeah, it’s done now.” Edd points to the pot, half full of the stuff. “I didn’t get any because I was waiting for you.”

“Wait no longer. Which mug do you want?”

\---------

==> Well, this is not how you expected your Monday night into Tuesday morning to go.

==> Let’s start from the beginning.

==> You’re Tword again.

==> Not to be confused with your main facet, Tord, or your idiot host brain, Tom. But no, you are Tword.

==> Hi Tword!

==> You observe Tom’s days, and anything from those times is the extent of your knowledge. You know that he said he would make an appointment for the doctor. He did, and thank god for that. Due to his description, Wednesday would be his appointment. He also met a girl… Tori. Tori, Tori, Tori. You thought her as a little succubus, and Tom as a serious fucking sucker.

==> That guy really _does_ only think with his dick when it’s convenient for him. And now he’s having sex with a girl he blew off the first time he even saw her. And of course he drank beforehand, should you expect anything less? No, you don’t. You never do. What did Edd tell him about sticking his dick in crazy? You know, but does _Tom_?

==> Speaking of which, it seems he arrived.

==> Normally Tom only graces you with a ghost of his presence in his dreams, but it seems like his brain has other plans. He lays a few feet in front of you; dazed, confused… and naked. Yes, naked. He comes to you in whatever state he’s in, and he happens to be fucking some girl while coming to you for a chat.

==> As if on cue, he springs up. He mumbles something about being kidnapped or drugged or _something_ , and then he sees _you_.

==> Okay, okay, you begin, don’t go feral on me just yet. Tom asks what the fuck happened. You explain to him that he’s doing this handy dandy thing called… well, you don’t really know, and that he should probably try to keep his boner up.

==> Tom points to his... He asks if you mean? You say yes Tom, you mean for him to jerk it while he talks to you. You can understand his apprehension, seeing as you’re a projection of his worst enemy, but him suddenly popping out of here because Tori is wondering why Tom suddenly went soft would be a problem. Reluctantly, Tom’s hand moves to his dick, and he strokes himself as he thinks of his next question.

==> He’s wondering why this is happening, you unfortunately can’t provide an answer right now. This sort of stuff happens randomly, and the meeting happening while Tom is conscious is even more bizarre. He asks you if Tori has noticed anything off, and you say no, she hasn’t. Thankfully, while he’s tripping on his own lack of serotonin, you can keep track of his surroundings in case things go wrong. Oh, the wonders of brain ghosts.

==> Tom sighs, twitching at his own touches. He’s visibly uncomfortable. You politely offer to also sit naked if it would make him feel better, and he threatens to beat the shit out of you once this is over if you even try. Well _damn_ , you were only trying to help. Tom said you could help by shutting up. At least he’s not beating you up this time.

==> You probably shouldn’t rile him up too much this time. You wouldn’t want to ruin his… special night.

==> Still, that girl… evoked a subconscious response that even you felt the tremors of.

==> You break the silence and ask Tom what he thinks of Tori. He thinks for a moment, and then asks you why. He’s catching up to your way of thinking; everything you say always has something hiding behind it. You chuckle, commending him for his improved observational skills.

==> You explain that you can’t tell him much; it’s only intuition talking at this point. He gives you a skeptical look, and you sigh. You tell him that he can’t keep doubting you just because of what form you happen to have. It’s not _your_ fault he’s still hung up over Tord, _especially_ for reasons you know better than to bring up. Tom asks if this intuition is positive or negative, and you shrug. It’s not really an indication of good or bad, but rather that _something_ is amiss.

==> Tom hisses at himself. It appears as if he’s trying not to finish just yet. It’s not because of Tori, but you can sense that it’s because of you. You give him a smirk, is he really trying to spend more time with you? He challenges you, saying that it’s only because he has a lot of things to think over and you’re pretty helpful with that. _Aww, that is the closest you will ever get to complimenting Tord! You are progressing!_

==> But still, you say, he can’t stay here forever. You scoot closer to him, and he visibly tenses up. You tell him to relax; stage fright won’t help him here. He tells you if you do what he thinks you’re going to do, he’ll strangle you. No, he won’t. You know he won’t.

==> You brush his hand away from his cock and replace it with your own. He almost jumps up, but you manage to keep him down. He asks you what the fuck you’re even doing, however, he tumbles over the last few words of his sentence as you move your hand. You tell him it’s for his own good, and in a weird way, yours. And Tori’s, you suppose. You’d feel a little bad if Tori turned into a hole for Tom to constantly drill until he came to. Tom doesn’t answer, but it seems like you’ve got him on your side for once.

==> You inch a little closer, your foreheads almost touching as Tom averts his eyes. In a way, you know what you’re doing. You’ve said this to Tom, time and time again, and perhaps in this state he may not be fully aware of the implications of the situation here. Anything you do in here, anything you’ve done, right now, or anything you _will_ do, depends on Tom. You wouldn’t have the suggestion to voluntarily jerk him off if it weren’t for Tom himself.

==> You keep your intense expression for him. Tom slowly starts to look at you, and your lips barely brush together as he finishes into your hand. His disappearance is an instant, rubber band snap action and you find yourself laying back down on the floor when he’s gone. His cum is still fresh and sticky in your hand. It’ll go away eventually.

==> You hope that this has opened some sort of door for him. Maybe it has. Maybe it hasn’t. Still, the fact that he didn’t beat the shit out of you means _something _is going right.__

__== > It seems that he finished and satisfied Tori without a problem. You can’t shake the feeling that there’s something _off_ about her, and it bothers you even more that you can’t figure out what it is. Oh, they’re just going to sleep after that, but it doesn’t seem like Tom is slipping in for a chat. Finally, this guy can get a good night’s sleep._ _

__== > You’re glad, weirdly enough. Hopefully he learned something from this._ _


	4. i have been falsely informed, for a few shots of vodka a night does not in fact keep the doctor away

==> You’re back to being Tom. Wowie, what a night. If only you could _fucking remember any of it_.

==> You hate your brain. Maybe you should go to a therapist.

==> You slept for a bit; according to your phone, a few hours, before waking up in your own pool of sweat and… other fluids. Ah yes, as much as you don’t remember your time with Tori, the leftover tinglies you feel makes it known that it was a good time.

==> You then notice that the warmth and added weight next to you faded. Tori was gone. Guess she’s not one for post-sex banter?

==> She left a text for you, saying that something came up and she had to dip. She does mention she had a _wonderful_ night with you, maybe you two could do it again? You wouldn’t be against that. Absolutely not.

==> You could go back to sleep. You’ve got a few hours before your alarm goes off, but… of course, you can’t get that off your mind.

==> You know, the apparition of your worst enemy jerking you off so sensually, you’re sure you got off to him instead of fucking Tori. Maybe you did. Considering that everything from that point is a bit blurry, you won’t be able to confirm it. And you highly, highly doubt Tword will tell you outright. What a dick, just like the real one.

==> You also don’t want to run the risk of running into Tword in your slumber again. You’ve had enough awkward encounters with your subconscious to last a lifetime. You turn in your bed to face the calendar you pinned to your wall. You ended up making that appointment; you remember that much. It was a little nerve wracking, even with the night of fun with Tori ahead of you at the time.

_You just don’t want it to be bad. You don’t want to hurt your friends._

==> You force yourself to sit up. That’s it, you can’t sleep like this. You ignore the stained and perfume-seasoned bedsheets in favor of going directly to your fridge. You know what they say; it’s 5pm somewhere.

==> God, you take one sip of some cheap cider Edd gave you last month, and you can already feel Tword silently judging you. Well, in this case, it’s you judging yourself, or the projection of Edd judging you for drinking at 3am. You feel Tword is an otherworldly force, come to plague you as punishment for being such a dickhead in the last decade. You probably deserve it, you think, and take another swig of the cider. It vaguely tastes like apple, and you suppose it’ll do for now.

==> Fuck it, you grab the six pack and head for your couch. You’re not going back to bed any time soon.

==> You really, _really_ need to stop drinking.

\------

A woman quickly exits the complex, clothing disheveled and a loose bun falling out from her quick movements on her bare feet. It’s cool and wet, so she doesn’t particularly mind being in the state she’s in. She will admit, however, she’s having a little trouble walking, and that’s not because she was wearing heels earlier.

She glances around before walking out from the parking lot, onto the sidewalk to be met by an empty, silent London road. It’s about midnight, and she’s waiting for her ride back. She would have loved to have spent the night with Tom, but duty calls. In this case, her own duties call.

A set of headlights flicker from down the street, and her smile springs onto her face as she hurries to the vehicle in waiting. A man can be seen in the driver’s seat, looking a bit disgruntled to be there at such an ungodly hour. But, he needs to put bread on the table somehow.

“Hey!” She exclaims, opening the door and swinging into the back seat in one fail swoop. She closes the door, and the man starts the car back up.

“... Must you keep this act up?” The man asked, a bit annoyed.

“What? Do you not like my acting skills, Pat? Is that it? Do I not make a convincing girl?”

“It’s not that. Well, maybe it is. Or maybe it’s because I could be doing better things than picking you up from a one night stand with----”

She shushes Pat. Her expression changes from sweet and perky to…. Devilish.

“You are right.” She chuckles, her voice lowering. “I suppose that this caricature gets a bit exhausting after keeping it up all day.”

Pat finally starts driving. The sooner he gets back to headquarters, the sooner he can finally go back to bed. “Right. Tori---”

“Pat, you can refer to me as my actual name. I think I am done playing dress-up for tonight.”

“Right…”

“Which means.” She continues, pulling a small box from her cleavage. “Tord. You may call me Tord.”

“Tord.” Pat repeats. It’s not often Tord lets you use informal language. “Are there any complications with disengaging the disguise module?”

“Hmmm….” Tord hums, examining the box. “Not that I am aware of. Then again, I haven’t been out of my own element for that long. Still… it was almost as if it was me! Man, technology really improves day by day, huh?”

“It sure does.” Pat sighs. Man, it’s like Tord invented the fucking thing. “Why don’t you try turning back?”

Tord is already a few steps ahead of him. Tord’s already pressed the button, deactivating the modifications to his body. It stings a little, it destroys the clothing the user is wearing, leaving them completely nude. On the bright side, however, the user doesn’t sustain any injury or physical abnormalities. It’s a really nifty little device.

Pat looks at Tord from his mirror. A naked Tord. In his back seat? Oh, but a dream, he thinks sarcastically.

Tord examines himself in the reflection of the backseat window. Yup, everything seems to check out. Tits didn’t remain, his dick’s still in place, every nook and scar and mark remains on his body with no problem. Even the tattoo on his chest remains untouched, and he was happy it wasn’t visible during his little… adventure.

“So.” Pat starts to talk again. “How was your gathering of intel? Or are you going to finally admit that it was merely a hedonistic fantasy?”

“And what if it’s both?” Tord retorts, finally relaxing in the back by laying down across the seats. “I like to see it as being efficient.”

“Right.”

Tord reaches into the tiny compartment behind the passenger seat, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. Too bad he couldn’t smoke when he was with Tom; he didn’t want to give himself away. It’s not like he ever stopped smoking the same cigars he used to. Pat’s nose wrinkles from the smell; he smokes himself, but something about the funk of whatever the fuck Tord smokes always seems to turn his stomach. Still, Pat knows how to act, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“So. What’s next on the agenda, Tord.”

“Well…” And Tord just sort of. Leaves it at that. He doesn’t answer Pat, and Pat just takes that. Tord had a tendency to do this whenever he was fixated on something, and Pat knew this. In fact, this is the first time in a while that this sort of thing kicked in. 

Besides, it’s late. Tord will probably end up falling asleep in the position he’s in, cigar hanging out of his mouth and all. He’ll… need his ‘beauty rest’ for what’s to come.

\--------

==> It’s Wednesday. You didn’t technically stop being Tom, but you’re Tom.

==> You had taken the first half of your day off for work for this appointment. It was last minute, but given the circumstances as per your explanation, Pau didn’t give you too much shit about it. He did also owe you for that tour yesterday… or maybe you owed him? Who knows anymore.

==> Edd and Matt happily accompanied you to this appointment. Edd managed to work something out, and Matt’s off. They were truly happy for you, albeit a bit melancholy for the stormy, dark morning.

==> You’ve checked in by now, and are sitting in the waiting room with Edd and Matt, coffees in hand, ready to get this over with. You all agreed to grab some breakfast, hang out for a bit, and then you would go back into work and give Pau the scoop. And then Pau would give it whoever else cared about your wellbeing. You guess the guy who’s Pau’s boss? You never figured out who that guy was, either. You wonder if he’s just as much a chode as Pau is. Snrrk, probably is.

==> Edd happily offered to hold your coffee while you fiddle with a clipboard and pen, trying to fill in the information to the best of your ability. It sort of sucks not having any knowledge of your family medical history, but you’re trying. You’re here, and that’s what matters.

==> Matt was on your opposite side, looking over your paperwork as you filled it out. He’s trying to help you out the best that he can, even if not everything he says is helpful. You enjoy the company, and you can be content with just that. Thankfully, it’s only two pages of basic information since you’ve been here once before.

==> This office is connected to where you work, so naturally everything happening here would be sent right to however kept track of your work and medical records. Pau knew this much, and even asked you why you didn’t go sooner. You didn’t really have an answer, or at least, you didn’t have an answer to give Pau. You couldn’t really decipher if he was worried or just curious, so you figured it was good to play it safe and limit the amount of information you would share with him.

==> Pau had just shrugged at your answer. Depending on the results of your visit, he would probably be informed, to some extent, of your condition.

==> The nurse pops her head into the room, the bell ringing on the door to announce her presence. She calls your name, and you begin to stand up with your clipboard in hand. Edd and Matt eagerly follow you, giving the nurse a nod as they pass her.

==> Then comes the normal procedures; height, weight, asking about mental health, asking about your eyes, asking if you drank or smoked or had sex before. You answer all of these questions, and the nurse scrolls through your records for a moment. Her expression flashes a bit of worry as she reads through your information, and she glances at you for a moment before getting up. She smiles, tells you that the doctor will be with you in a minute, and quickly excuses herself.

==> Edd straightens up in the chair he helped himself to. He asks you how you’re feeling, and you just shrug. Nothing really happened that has surprised you yet; you’ve gotten the same questions and reactions that you normally get from any old person. Nothing’s different just because you’re talking to a nurse or a doctor. You’re just ready to get this done and over with and move on.

==> About 10 minutes pass, the three of you busy yourselves with small talk before the doctor finally arrives. He’s an older man, and he smiles at you as he takes the seat the nurse once sat in. After he brings up your records and skims through them, he begins to check you out.

==> Inside of your ears looking good, perhaps you should clean them a bit better. Teeth are adequate, but the doctor admits he’s not a dentist. No pain in pressing spots on the abdomen, upper or lower back. Thyroid seems to be normal, too. He finally goes to check your eyes, and he’s pretty fascinated with what he sees. Well, he explains, he sees a whole lot of nothing. He didn’t even know fractures could get this intense, and you explain that the only thing you remember is being shot by a laser. He swivels in the chair to type this up, and continues.

==> He’s having a bit of trouble actually examining you, and you take notice of this. He does a lot of leaning towards you, checking out your eyes, gently pulling your eyelid away to get a better look, mumbling to himself in a foreign language, and leaning back. You don’t doubt his expertise, but you can also understand why he’s a bit unsure of how to go about this. You ask him if everything’s okay, and he says everything’s fine… sort of.

==> He noticed that one eye is slightly bulging out compared to the other, the discoloration of your eyes is uneven in some spots, though he suspects this is due to the fact that you’ve been the way you are for a while. You swallow, and you nod when he tells you that you’ll probably need a few more tests. You glance at Edd, who’s trying to maintain his composure. Matt is equally as nervous as he twiddles his fingers together.

==> You ask him when you should get these tests done, and he lights up a little. You could get them done now, if you want, or you can schedule to do them later. You opt to do them now; your job can suck it.

\--------

==> Okay, now this is getting excessive.

==> You are now Tword, for the fourth time this week.

==> First time was business as usual, second time was an episode, third time was because Tom can’t have sex without thinking of his worst enemy (and yes, you’re allowed to think this because let’s be honest, we can tell that it’s true now), but the fourth time is a little too much.

==> Jesus Christ, this guy is just one can of worms after another, isn’t he?

==> You sit at your seat, and Tom stands up, staring down at the table, at the cup of coffee he always ends up with. He’s been like this for a few straight minutes; he didn’t even greet you with the usual insult.

==> You ask him what’s wrong. He says that these tests are what’s wrong. He knows what’s going to happen next. He adds with saying that _you_ know what’ll happen next. You furrow your eyebrows, sipping from your cup and then telling him that well, this is why you should’ve gone earlier. Tom sighs, wiping the sweat forming on his forehead.

==> He asks if the doctors have said anything important, and you tell him no. He asks you if you think it’s the worst case scenario, and you say you’re not sure. He asks you if you’re scared, and you repeat the question back to him. _Are you scared, Thomas?_

==> In earlier instances, you weren’t able to express anything close to sympathy due to Tom’s reluctance to let weakness in. He’s pretty good at bottling things up unless he’s angry or drunk. You can tell he’s in a pretty volatile state of mind, which might explain why he blacked out in the first place. You drum your fingers on the table, and he asks you another question.

==> He asks you if you know where Tord is. Yes, the real Tord. You tell him _are you kidding?_ You are literally a piece of Tom taking the form of another person, how would you know that if you know as much as he does? Tom says that clearly you know _something_ , and you assure him it’s not what he thinks. You can feel his aggression coming back, his grip tightening on the wooden table as he looks up at you.

==> Tears are in his eyes, and his teeth are bared and grit so tightly you think he might explode. His hands are shaking as he lets go of the table, and you tell him to not do what you think he’s going to do. He says who the fuck are you to tell him what to do. You don’t know anything, and you advise him that, so far, it’s quite the contrary. He tells you to shut it, and pushes the table out of the way.

==> Ugh, you were hoping to at least finish your drink this time. You stand up, your expression is stern as you kick the chair you were sitting on out of the way. You’re overwhelmed with rage that you can’t control, and you have a feeling that Tom is influencing you again somehow. He’s radiating with the same violent energy, and he steps slowly towards you. You ball up your fists, ready to strike him as he stalks toward you.

_Go ahead, Tom. Hit me. Do it. I dare you. It is the most you will do to help yourself anyway---_

==> You’re brought to the ground almost immediately. He’s got his hands around your neck and is applying pressure. You try to push him off, but you realize that you’re basically powerless in the form you’re in. You tell him _no_ , this isn’t the way to solve this. He spits on you and squeezes tighter. You tell him this won’t make things better, and he’s honestly exasperated you’re still talking. You smirk with his hands bruising your neck, saying that you’ll be here for as long as he tries to avoid you.

==> Something about the way your mouth curled as you smiled sends a violent shiver in Tom’s body. His grip disappears and he lifts his hands from you, a little terrified at your expression. That _smirk_ is bringing back something he’d rather not think about; something he had buried so far into himself that not even you would bring it up. Unfortunately, desperate times call for desperate measures, and you don’t want Tom to spiral further.

==> You ask him if he’s done. He doesn’t say anything. You ask him if he’s alright. He doesn’t say anything. You place your hands on his thighs, rubbing circles with your fingers in an attempt to soothe. He twitches at your touch, but he doesn’t strike. He lets out a labored sigh before letting the tears fall from his eyes and onto your face. Your stern expression doesn’t change.

==> He asks you _why_. You say _why what_. He says _why are you doing this_?

==> You sigh. You tell him it’s silly to ask questions you already know the answer to. Or rather, the answer that you don’t want to face. Tom knows what he’s all about, even if he won’t admit it.

==> Suddenly, he leans down to kiss you. It’s surprisingly gentle, but it’s sudden. You reeled back because of the action, but you slowly follow it. You notice he’s biting your lower lip, and you return the gesture. This isn’t an action out of anger; you feel a mixture of sadness, confusion, and… something that you don’t really have a word for. But this feeling isn’t inherently bad, either.

==> After a few seconds, he pulls away. He looks absolutely petrified, but you don’t say anything. But neither does he. Maybe he’s finally figuring this out.


	5. i couldnt come up with a funny name for this chapter. today i bit the inside of my mouth while eating lunch

A few weeks have passed.

Winter’s coming, and the people have prepared. November brought on a crisp, cold pattern a bit sooner than expected, but they’re prepared. The complex has grown quiet, a few more people moved in as a few moved out. People go outside less often for how cold and eerie it is outside. It really does seem like there are less and less people outside, and that can’t always be blamed on the weather.

Tensions have been rising on all fronts; something about someone really going for a higher political power in a not very political way. Scandals across the board about someone with someone else, lies in the medical world and in the world of technology, and many other things. Most of these issues are kept under wraps; the citizens aren’t completely aware of these things happening. They are aware, however, that winter is coming.

A candle flickers in Edd’s window. He’s taken to scented candles to calm his nerves and to remind him it’s always a little warmer at home. He’s gone to doing freelance work from home, in which he would say he certainly dodged a bullet. Even without the weather in mind, there’s something in his brain telling him that it’s a bit more treacherous outside than it should be. He’s let his hair grow out a little more than usual; he’s let his beard come in, and it’s not as uneven as it used to be; his lucky can hangs on a hook just above his computer monitor. It’s like a motivational poster to him, and he can’t help but smile every time he sees it.

He and Matt have been meeting for lunch; mostly either having it delivered or collaborating on a meal. Matt had quit his job; he had enough savings to get by without working for a bit, but Edd advised him that would only work for so long. Matt knew this, and he was actively searching, but it’s hard to find a job when the world gets like this. Matt silently drinks his tea as Edd blows bubbles in the cola he’s poured himself a glass of. The third seat of the table was empty.

Tom took a medical leave from work after his appointment that day. He didn’t even submit it formally; Pau had to come looking for him, only to run into Edd, who had to explain the situation to him. Pau, not normally sympathetic to any of Edd’s friends, nodded understandingly before sending off his best wishes. He went back and gave the news to the people it mattered to.

In the meantime, Tom’s only back and forth journeys have been from home, to the doctor, and back home. He couldn’t bring himself to go to the gym anymore. He stopped texting Tori, who only texted him when he texted first anyways. He didn’t answer the door for Edd and Matt anymore; they would let themselves in, take care of him, feed him, spend time with him to lighten his spirits before leaving him to sleep for the night.

_Through your tests, we have found abnormalities forming within your eyes. Through further tests, melanomas have been discovered in both of your eyes. It’s really not easy to give you this news.. Judging by your expression, you know where this is going._

Edd and Matt were present during the news. It was a few days later where all of them had to ditch their jobs to see these results. Sure enough, it was in fact the worst case scenario.

_...This cancer has the potential to spread to other major organs such as your lungs and liver. While we can’t currently measure the speed of which this will be done, we will need you in periodically to run tests and administer treatment..._

Tom broke that day. Any motivations he had, ambitions, _anything_ just seemed to fade in that moment. Edd felt himself choke up; it was as if he could just hear the snap in Tom’s brain. Matt was a bit slower to understand the gravity of the situation, but he was easily the most emotional of the three of them. When they left the clinic that day, the car ride was silent. Edd had asked Tom if he was going back to work, and he had already texted Pau telling him he wasn’t coming in. After that, he turned off his phone, and it hadn’t been on ever since.

Edd finally took a sip of the overly-carbonated drink. The burn in his throat was nice, and the sweetness would usually put a smile on his face. It encouraged a curl of his lips, but nothing more. He fiddled with the straw in the glass with his tongue before focusing on Matt, who was spacing out in the window.

“Hey Matt?” Edd finally spoke. Matt jumps, like Edd had meant to startle him.

“Y-you got me, Edd. What is it?”

“Should we go get Tom?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Don’t we normally get him lunch anyways?”

“Well yeah, of course. He would have starved by now if we didn’t.”

“Then what do you mean?”

_...There’s a pretty good chance your vision will start to go, given the already extensive damage you have. We recommend a procedure, called Enucleation. It would be the complete removal of the eyeball, and the replacement of a synthetic eyeball. We aren’t going to force you to go through with this procedure, but your chances of being able to function normally in the future depend on the decision you make, with the time you have...._

“I think we should talk to him.” Edd drummed his fingers on the table. “And I don’t mean _banter_ … I mean talk to him.”

“Right, right.” Matt puts down his cup, tapping his fingers on his chin. “Because the time he has is… limited.”

“Yeah.” Edd smiled, but the sadness was there.

Matt stands up from his seat. What tea? There are more important things to worry about. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go see our friend!”

\---------

==> You are now Tord, a few weeks later, just like everyone else. Yes, the real Tord. Not Tword. Tword’s a little busy right now, but we’ll get to him later.

==> Anyways, you’re Tord now.

==> You’ve been busy at your desk for a few hours now, mostly with piled up paperwork, contracts, and other assignments. You’ve put off your work quite a bit these past few weeks; you can’t help it, though! You’ve been pretty distracted lately. Things have sort of been in a turbulence, your plans have on their head and beyond in multiple ways.

==> You eye the filing cabinet next to your desk. Second drawer from the top are records of every _present_ employee. You keep yourself pretty organized, despite how messy your desk is now. Your laptop buzzes as you get another email. Jesus Christ, do these guys have anything better to do right now?

==> Fuck it, if the work has waited this long, it can wait a little longer. You stand from your desk, cracking your back before rushing to the cabinet, ripping open the drawer and looking for the file that’s been on your mind since you woke up this morning.

_Tom._

==> You pick up his file. On the front, there’s a big red stamp that reads ‘MEDICAL LEAVE’. Right, you put that stamp there the second you heard the news. Before Pau even told you Tom wasn’t coming into work or even answering his phone. You didn’t give him any further instructions after that.

==> You thought about breaking your vow to not see those three again. You don’t like the idea of being held back by ‘friends’. What are ‘friends’ but people who only exist because you bounce your natures and personalities off before you get bored. You could say that you were bored of those three. _Were_ is the keyword here. Are you still bored?

==> You open up Tom’s file. For the most part, it’s pretty thin. Not a lot of disciplinary actions, mostly just notes and scribbles about his performance and his many, many rejections for the promotions you keep trying to give him. He’s still stubborn, you’ll give him that. You’re only trying to help, even if it’s from you of all people. Hell, he would probably quit in a heartbeat if he figured out you’re his boss. Oh boy, what a shitstorm that would turn into.

==> You close the file, and stick it back in the drawer. You shouldn’t get yourself involved. It’s not that you don’t want to, it’s just that you shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be good for your plans right now; going after Tom as Tori for your own sexual pleasure was enough of an obstruction to your work. Pau and Pat don’t really have the authority to criticize you on that, but you could tell they were judging you.

==> Of course they’re judging you, a voice says. Oh great, you mutter to yourself, just come on out already. You don’t have the patience for this right now.

==> Just like Tom, you are also plagued by the existence of an apparition of all of your unresolved issues and insecurities. You don’t remember when you started seeing him around, but he definitely doesn’t hide himself. He will be affectionately referred to as _Twom_. Creative, I know.

_Tom._

==> Yeah, yeah, he says. You say his name like something’s supposed to happen if you repeat it. You say yeah, no shit. Maybe if you say it enough he’ll scram for once. Tom, or in this case, Twom, just laughs at you. Man, brain ghosts are fun for everyone.

==> You ask Twom what he wants, and he smiles at you. He says that you know what he wants, because you want it too. Your image of Tom is stuck on your last view of him; bloodied, precious blue hoodie ripped to shreds, holding a harpoon coated in your blood.

==> Twom says that you’re getting distracted from your work. You’re slipping from your routine, and you tell him _yeah_ , you are. You can’t help it. Twom says he knows, and he knows how to get you back on track. Twom seems to really only want the things that you don’t want, and he’s proven that with his occasional sarcastic comments over time. 

==> Twom’s empty hand hovers over his thigh, his fingers tapping his inner thigh. You squint at him; you _know_ what he’s trying to do. You tell him no; you already did that. He says no shit, he had to watch you get dicked down by that depressed bastard almost the entire night in a body that _wasn’t even yours_. His fingers press against his crotch, and you visibly twitch. You know what he’s trying to do, he _always_ does this when you’re busy.

==> You ask him why he’s only got your sexual interest in mind, and he says it’s the easier thing of yours to express. He says hey, no one will see me if I do this, right? Oh wait, no one will; I’m in your head, stupid.

==> He unbuttons his jeans, revealing the bulge in his boxers. He says _yeah, you want this again, don’t you_? At this point, you two have phased from your office to an empty room. You’re sitting on the floor, and Twom’s sitting on what appears to be a futon. He’s teasing the waistband of his boxers, trying to get you to sit next to him. You politely decline, an annoyed smile is on your face.

==> Twom smirks, his teeth biting his lip as he pulls the waistband out before letting it snap against his skin. _Are you sure_?

==> An uncomfortable tightness has formed in your pants. He says _yeah, of course you’re hard, you sick fuck_. You’re hard for the guy who wants you dead, he says. I can feel the sexual tension from here, he says. Your smile is faltering, and you feel your legs itching to push you towards Twom.

_But I’m the easy way out, Tord. You know what to do, right?_

==> That sentence is enough to crumble the last bit of reason you have left. You full-on charge at Twom, getting on top of him and even sliding the futon a few inches from the impact of the action. Twom grabs your hips, making sure to hold you down so you’re grinding against each other. You can’t help how it feels; you’re already humming under your breath as you return the movements.

==> Twom pulls you in for a kiss, and it’s messy. Within seconds you’re biting at each other, even drawing blood. Your hands securely caress Twom’s neck; you’re not choking him, but the pulse you can feel from his body is right under your thumb. The sensation of his heartbeat quickening only turns you on more.

==> He starts to mumble in between the kisses and bites; _this is what you want, right? Your plans are taking the backburner, Tord. You want me. You want this. You got my dick once by parading around as some random slut and now you’re here. Are you going to use me forever, or what? He’s pretty much within reach now_ \---

_Sir._

==> You move back, trying to pull the waistband down to reveal his hardened cock. The sight almost makes you drool, but you maintain your composure. You scoot back just a little bit more, and you let the length slide right into your mouth. Twom hisses, revealing a pair of fangs as he smirks and runs his hand through your ha---

_**Sir.**_

==> Twom ends up pushing your head down, and you choke and gag but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Despite the tears popping up in your eyes, you look up at him to see the flashes of purple in his eyes. He doesn’t even have to say anything to get you to choke on tha--

_**TORD!**_

==> Oh shit.

==> You have somehow ended up on your desk, head down into a small clearing away from your paperwork. You’re drooling from the corner of your mouth, and… yeah, that’s a wet spot in your pants.

==> Pat steps back, knowing full well that he’s not supposed to call you Tord, but at this point, you’ll dismiss it. He’s bewildered to see you in such a state; he said you appeared to be asleep and wouldn’t even respond to being shaken.

==> You wipe the drool on your hand, and you ask him what he wants. Is it anything important? He says well, a little. Pat says that Tom hasn’t responded to any of the messages or emails sent his way. The only updates you have are from his doctor, and even then, you only get a brief description of how he’s holding up before all of the treatment procedures.

==> Of course it’s about Tom. He assumes that’s what you want to hear. Well, Pat’s right, isn’t he? Yeah. Are you going to admit it? Nope.

==> You give him an impatient look. Pat raises an eyebrow, asking if you’re okay. You say you’re fine, and ask him if anything else has come up. He says other than whatever you’ve read on your desk (which unbeknownst to him, isn’t much), that’s the only thing to be paying attention to. Pat asks if he can be dismissed, and you suppose he can. He gives you a nod and makes his exit. Once you can hear the distance whirring of the elevator’s engine, you sigh very loudly.

==> Emotions suck. Emotions are hard. Fuck, you really wish you killed Tom in that impact. Maybe then these feelings wouldn’t exist.

\-----------

==> Finally, you’re Tom. Though, there’s not much of a difference; both of you are filled with an excess amount of personal anger, grudges, and sexual frustration nearly busting your brains at the seams. For right now, though, you’re Tom, and perhaps all of those extreme emotions are on hold for the time being.

==> As mentioned previously, you’ve turned into a hermit. Every single bad habit you’ve managed to wiggle yourself out of has hit you again in full force. You’re drinking more than you usually are, you haven’t gone to work in a while, you don’t even remember the last time you checked your phone. Your personal habitats have included your bed, surrounding yourself in pillows, and your couch, wrapped up in a blue blanket, mindlessly flipping through the television and sipping your shots.

==> The doctors you’ve been speaking to (and there have been a _lot_ , oh god) have suggested that you start with chemotherapy in an attempt to keep things calmer. They explained the side effects, and you just nodded them off saying _it’s fine, it could be worse_. And so, here you are.

==> You shaved your head preemptively. This action surprised even Edd and Matt, who know how much you love your hair. Most of the time you show up to just about anywhere rocking the bedhead look, but your hair was a pretty good staple to your overall appearance. With your hair gone, you feel light and unbalanced. You don’t know how you feel about feeling the breeze touch your scalp, the pulse from the heater blowing hot air on you, the fact that you can’t even grip your own hair anymore when you’re on the verge of tears.

==> You hear a knock at the door, followed by the door knob turning and some footsteps. You’ve gotten used to Matt and Edd just letting themselves in; it’s not like you were going to answer the door anyways.

==> The weight in your bed shifts as you feel Edd sit on the corner near your feet. Matt pulls up a chair, and sits next to you. Edd greets you, and you just groan from your pillows. Edd says okay, Tom, it’s time for lunch. You can’t sit there forever. You say _watch me_.

==> Okay, Tom, you’re not the only one who’s been exercising. Matt and Edd tag team your pile of pillows to dig you out. Matt picks you up bridal style, giving a mock kiss to your forehead as he carries you to your couch. He sits you down, and you actually comply by keeping your own head upright. Your expression is unpleasant, and Matt jokingly pulls up the corners of your mouth with his fingers. _C’mon, Tom! Smile!_

==> Yeah, you’re not smiling. With Matt’s fingers on you, you think you look fucking ridiculous.

==> Edd tells Matt to lay off for a bit; he senses that you probably just woke up. You hear Edd in your kitchen, making something with whatever stuff he brought with him. Matt sits with you on the couch, turning on the television to try and find something to light up the room a little bit.

==> Your eyes wander the room, only to land on a fourth person who has nestled himself into the corner right by the door.

_Tword._

==> The fact that he has started appearing outside of your head has disturbed you a little. Sometimes he’ll be sharing a seat on the couch, other times he’ll lay on the bed next to you, staring at you expectantly as you would attempt to not keep eye contact. For now, he’s just leaning in the corner, eyes on you, occasionally glancing between Matt and Edd.

==> He asks you if you’re actually going to finish a meal this time. You frown, indicating a _no, probably not. Not hungry_. He shrugs. He asks you when you plan on going back to work, and you shrug as an indication that you don’t know. He says that you should probably go back; you don’t even know if they’re tolerating your absence or if they’re looking to replace you. You roll your eyes as a way to say _well, they can suck my dick_.

==> Tword raises a playful eyebrow. You glare at him. _No, dickhead, not like that_.

==> Tword saunters from his spot, sitting in the empty spot on the couch, opposite from Matt. The weight doesn’t shift. He says _man, you should get a bigger couch_. You shake your head; it’s plenty big enough for three people. Only three? Tword says he feels a little hurt. You shoot him another glare; he’s really trying to push your buttons today.

==> He says _well, it’s a good thing you have yourself under control. How would your friends feel if you stood up and began screaming at nothing_?

==> You remain still, gripping the couch in your hands, digging your fingernails into the fabric. Tword just smirks at you, making himself comfortable next to you. Thank _god_ Matt isn’t paying attention to your sudden movements; he’s too invested in the television. All he could really find to watch was the news.

_...Several explosions in the metropolitan area have been reported over the past few days. No suspects have been apprehended, but investigations are underway. No deaths have been reported, but several injuries are being tended to as we speak. It is recommended to evacuate crowded areas, and to remain inside as much as possible. The only evidence the police has, is this unusual symbol found spray-painted on the ground near the source of the blast…_

==> Matt raises his eyebrows, saying that the symbol looks kind of weird. It’s nothing he’s ever seen before. He wonders if it’s foreign, and asks you if you’ve ever seen it before. You tell him no, not that you know of. You glance at Tword, who is just silently watching the television with both of you.

_...While we don’t know the origin of the symbol, it has been added to the efforts of investigations, and has the chance to be revisited at a later date. In other news…_

==> The smell of breakfast fills your nose. You suppose Edd is aiming for a brunch vibe; eggs are cooking, bacon’s sizzling on the stove, and… you can’t really sense what else he’s making, but he’s never wronged you with his cooking before. You can actually feel yourself getting hungry, which is a change from the usual routine of your crippling self-worth.

==> You hope Edd’s finished with cooking soon. Maybe a nice meal would help you feel better. Then again, you find yourself thinking this every time they come over.

\--------

==> Congratulations!

==> Thank you for making it this far.

==> Due to your achievements, you have unlocked a new character!

==> And now…

==> You are that new character.

==> Your name is Eduardo, and _Jesus Christ_ , you are already done with whatever shit you’ve gotten yourself into.

==> You and your roommate, Mark, have been bouncing from place to place over the past few years. Your house was destroyed by _some fucking asshole_ , and that asshole killed one of your friends. Despite the differences you had, and how frustrating he was as a person to deal with, you miss him. You can’t help but miss him. You’ve kept Mark close, secretly hoping the same fate doesn’t meet him one day.

==> You had moved to this complex about a week ago. There were a _lot_ of vacancies; it was almost concerning how quickly things had cleared out. You and Mark got one unit apiece, and thankfully, you’re both able to be neighbors. At least that sense of normalcy is still there, but it really has been a long journey up to this point.

==> The man who did all this, who killed your friend and destroyed your livelihood, that forced you to just keep _running_ in hopes that all of this would be over… his name. His name? You only heard his name once, and that was from when your old neighbors were screaming at him to stop. He was destroying anything without an ounce of care to follow up. He destroyed your house, he destroyed _their_ house, he almost killed _their_ friend. Thankfully, that friend managed to rise from the rubble and stopped that asshole before he could escape.

==> _Tord_. Yeah, that’s his name. Fuck that guy. You’ll kill him if you ever see him again.

==> Anyways, moving on to more current events… a few days ago, to be exact.

==> You inadvertently ran into someone who you didn’t think you’d ever see again. Your old neighbor, and arguably rival, Edd, apparently lives down the hall. You both caught a glance of each other, and immediately dropped what you were doing to press up to each other. Chest to chest, fiery passion in your eyes before you both realized that it was stupid; if anything, there was a temporary truce in place. You both had lost something important, and you stepped back from each other.

==> Edd asks how you’re doing, and you say it could be better. You return the question, and Edd’s expression changes from friendly to a grimace. He says things could _definitely_ be better, but all seems to be taking a turn for the worst lately. He asks if you’re still hanging around with Mark, and you confirm this. You ask if you’re still with those two los--- you mean, those two guys he lived with. Edd says yeah, he is. Matt and Tom are still around, but he mentions that Tom isn’t doing so hot.

==> Tom was the guy who shot Tord down from the sky with the harpoon gun. You remember the feeling of rejoice you felt when Tord crash landed as you held your dead friend in your arms. You thought Tord was dead from the impact, but you saw him leave with two guys you had never seen before. You hadn’t seen him since that day.

==> You ask about Tom, and Edd becomes more visibly upset. You feel a bit bad for even asking, considering the reaction you’re getting. Edd assures you that it’s fine, he’s just not used to talking to anyone else about this, let alone you. Perhaps the wounds of rivalry were still there, and both of you are still a bit apprehensive. 

==> Edd says he has to run somewhere. He says maybe you should visit sometime… perhaps catching up would be good for the five of you. You hesitantly agree to the offer. Edd pauses for a moment.

_By the way… be nice to Tom when you see him._

==> With that, Edd walks off, and you’re left with more questions than answers. You’re visibly frustrated, but you keep your cool. Still, it’s oddly relieving to see Edd alive and kicking. You turn around, heading back in the direction you were going.

==> Grocery shopping. You also told Mark you’d pick up a few things for him. Hopefully, it’s not too treacherous outside.

\---------

==> You’re back to being Edd, a bit more in present time. You’re still cooking, and you’re on the verge of being ready to feed your friends. Maybe you should’ve invited Eduardo today… well, maybe it’s for the best. You need to get Tom out of the house first.

==> You begin to prepare plates as the last bit of bacon cooks. The coffee pot is filled, and in a minute you’ll call Matt over to pour it.

==> You’ve been watching those two sitting on the couch the whole time. Matt was fixated on the television, and Tom was noticeably fidgety. Perhaps he just isn’t feeling well, so you don’t think too much of it. Anyone going through what he’s going through has the right to be under the weather.

==> A few minutes pass, and you call Matt over. As he happily helps you with bringing everything over to the couch, the symbol shown on the television earlier was flashed on the screen once more before the newscaster completely moved from the topic. You squinted at the television as you sat next to Tom. Why did that symbol look so familiar? You swear you’ve seen it before. Maybe Matt doesn’t remember it, and Tom could care less, but you just can’t shake the feeling of familiarity.

==> The three of you silently agree to just eat and continue to watch the news. There really isn’t anything else on, unless one of you would want to pop in a DVD or peruse Netflix for something. Besides, you plan to talk to Tom today, with Matt alongside, so you don’t want anything too distracting to be on.

==> You get Tom’s attention, and he tiredly looks your way as he chews. You ask him if he plans to go back to work. Not for the fact that money’s an issue, but just… well, he can’t avoid work forever.

==> Tom swallows, and says that it’s been on his mind to go back. You say oh, that’s good! You’re glad he’s at least trying to bust out of his shell. He raises an eyebrow at you; no, he’s not planning on going back to the monotonous life and acting as if everything’s normal. He’s saying that he’s probably going to be quitting.

==> Your plate nearly slips out of your hands. _Quitting_? Tom, you can’t quit! Tom says yes, yes he can and yes he will. You tell him that’s the stupidest fucking idea he’s ever had, and he’s had _plenty_ of those. You ask him how he expects to take care of himself, and he just shrugs.

==> You tell him he can’t. He shouldn’t. Matt sits, still trying to eat, but he’s absolutely petrified as you and Tom begin to raise your voices.

_Tom, you can’t do this!_

_Yeah, I can. Fucking watch me. You don’t think I’ll walk out of here right this second and put my foot down? I’ve been letting them step on me for years._

_Tom, this is a bad idea--_

_What the hell do you know? I didn’t ask for your opinion. I didn’t ask for you to care. I didn’t fucking ask you or Matt to feed me, or to even live next door to me. You assumed that’s what I wanted._

_This isn’t going to help anyone, including you! What are you even going to do once you quit??_

_I don’t know, and I don’t care._

==> Tom doesn’t let you say another word. He storms away, grabs his keys, his phone, and his hoodie to cover his head. Without another word, he runs out the door, slamming it behind him. You and Matt are left speechless, the television still droning on as your food’s getting cold. Part of you wants to go after him, but you know Tom. He won’t stop being angry until he calms down by himself. He needs to calm down by himself. You just hope he changes his mind about his decision.

\-------

Tom ran outside, visibly weakened by the movement, inhibited by the rain soaking him to the bone, but he didn’t care. Tword followed close behind him, both concerned at his condition, but also unsurprised. Of course this was going to happen. Tword slipped into the passenger seat as Tom got into the driver’s side, shutting the door and starting the car. Tom grit his teeth as he drove out of the parking lot, en route to the factory. He was going to end this no matter what.

“Err… Thomas? Tom?” Tword speaks up, gripping the armrest next to him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because.” Tom growled. “I’m sick of all of this. I’m sick of my job, I’m sick of people thinking they know what’s best for me, I’m sick of shit changing out of my control, and I’m sick of you.”

Yeah, that’s about the answer Tword expected. “Tom, this is not---”

“Would you shut up already?! Oh my god, I’m so sick of hearing you talk as if you know me. Just shut up already, Tord. You didn’t care before, so why the fuck do you care now??”

Right, of course he won’t listen to reason. Tword still resembles the one thing Tom hates most, and will remain as such unless things change. Tword was merely an illusion of Tom’s mind; he couldn’t physically do anything. He just sat silently in his seat as Tom screamed incomprehensibly, swerving through turns and breaking speed limits as he barreled down the road towards the factory.

He parked in between lines, getting out of the car and slamming the door before storming to the entrance. Tword followed next to him, only giving him a look of fear as Tom just ignored he was even there.

“YOU!”

Tom had entered through the door, checking in his ID as he stepped through. The person he saw? _Pau_.

Pau springs up, clearly startled by Tom raising his voice. Tom charged towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close as Tom glared holes into him.

“Tom? I thought you were on----”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” Pau bit his lip, now completely shut up. “Take me to whoever’s in charge of this shithole. I need to have a chat.”

“Oh, well…” Pau grinned a bit nervously. “That’s funny you mentioned him… he’s actually been meaning to call you up anyways. Not sure what abou---”

“Cool. Then take me.” Tom let go of Pau’s shirt, and he quickly composed himself before walking Tom over to an elevator. Pau tried his best not to even look at Tom; he looked like he had seen better days. Pau had no idea Tom shaved his head, and he could only tell by the lack of hair tufts sticking out from under his hood. Besides, he knew better than to say anything. Pau wasn’t armed at the time, and he wasn’t about to get into a fistfight with a cancer patient.

The engine of the elevator buzzed loudly, the door eventually opening to a clean, carpeted interior. Pau and Tom stepped in, and Pau pressed a code of a few buttons before the door closed again.

The familiar symbol was plastered on either wall of the elevator. Tom noticed it, but didn’t say anything. Tword stood in between them, noting the symbol on the wall to bring up later. Tword hadn’t said anything to Tom up to this point, and he intended to keep it that way. Tom was finally doing what he should have done a while ago. Sure, maybe it wasn’t in the best way, but Tword couldn’t, or wouldn’t, bring himself to complain.

 _Ding_.

The door slides open, Pau walking past Tom to look around for anyone. Thankfully, the coast is clear.

“Giant door at the end of the hallway.” Pau points, the giant red symbol once again showing itself. Tom storms past him, ignoring the warnings from Tword to _slow down, relax, think this out rationally_ \---

\------

==> And suddenly, you’re Eduardo again. God damn it, how much do you have to pay someone to have a _peaceful_ morning?

==> You heard someone yelling earlier, followed by someone storming down a hallway and a couple of slamming doors. Unfortunately, Mark isn’t at his place, so you’ll have to investigate this by yourself. Fucking perfect.

==> Judging by the ajar door and the chattering, you can concur it’s coming from one of your three knucklehead neighbors. You tiptoe across the hall, peeking your head inside to see Edd and Matt sitting on the couch. By that deduction you assume… that this is Tom’s place. Or at least, you think? Maybe. You don’t know.

==> You remember Tom being the one to shoot Tord down. You remember a few days ago when Edd told you to be gentle with him. Judging by the sight before you, you don’t really know what to think.

==> You tap your fingers on the open door, and both turn to look at you. You ask if this is a bad time? Edd says no, but he doesn’t smile at you. He doesn’t really give you any sort of expression. Matt looks a bit quizzical, as if trying to remember who you are. Well, that part can wait for later. Quietly, you step in, taking care to shut the door.

==> You lean up against the wall, in between a set of empty wall hooks and the door. You look at the two of them and calmly, but very sternly, ask them what the _fuck_ is going on. You were just trying to wake up in the morning, awaiting the coffee maker to finally fucking spit something out, and it sounds like there’s a domestic dispute going on. You tell them to spill it, and spare you the gorey details.

==> Edd and Matt exchange looks.

==> Edd explains that Tom just isn’t having the greatest time lately. Right now, he’s going on a spree of doing stupid shit impulsively, such as locking himself in his room and running to go and quit his job just because some people look at him funny. You nod, asking why he was yelling about it so _loudly_. Right, you’re really only fixated on the volume. Stupid loud prick, you’ll have to give him a piece of your mind once he cools down.

==> Matt frowns, still not quite sure who you are. You say _what? You’ve got somethin’ to say too_? Matt says he sort of does, and you tell him to spit it out. He asks _are you Edd’s friend_? You glance at Edd, who gives you a look that suggests _please just play along, I’m begging_. You sigh and say yeah, you could say you’re friends.

==> Matt lights up and asks if you know Tom. You say yes, you do, but you haven’t spoken with him recently. He says okay! Did you know he’s been diagnosed with something? You say _really_? With what? He frowns, and says _cancer_.

==> That’s a sudden blow to your mood you didn’t need or ask for, but here you are anyways. The blunt, unfiltered method of receiving such gut-wrenching news is affecting you more on the inside than the outside. Outward, you don’t really know how to respond. You just sort of keep going between Matt and Edd, expecting one of these idiots to pull an icebreaker out of their ass to keep this conversation from crashing down into the ground.

==> Edd is visibly uncomfortable. He says yeah, that’s basically it. Boom. You say _really_? Edd says _yeah_? You say no, stupid, you mean is that really it? The news is that the guy who shot Tord out of the sky is just gonna _die_ like that? Both Edd and Matt visibly twitched at the mention of Tord. They were surprised you even knew who he was.

==> Edd tells you to calm down; it’s not an automatic death sentence. You scoff, following up with _well why the fuck is that fucking idiot quitting his job_??? Edd goes quiet again, and then tells you that he doesn’t know. He’s thinking irrationally, Edd says, and he’s hoping that he either doesn’t quit or whoever runs the company won’t take him seriously. You groan; this is just a fucking mess. You thought the drama was over after you separated from these guys, but apparently not.

==> You ask Edd if… if he’s willing to let bygones be bygones. Edd said that he thought that was already silently agreed on. You grin, saying _thank god it is_. You say that you couldn’t turn a blind eye to the guy who managed to avenge your friend. Edd frowns again when he remembers what you mean, but then puts his hand out. He says _truce_? You take his hand, gripping it tightly in the firmest handshake you’ve received in years. You offer the same to Matt, who doesn’t quite give you as much intensity, but you’re okay with it.

==> After a moment of silence, you beg the question of whether or not Tord is even still alive. Matt says that he doesn’t know, and Edd answers similarly. You say well, you’re skeptical of his death at this point. You don’t know what to believe anymore. Edd says that’s fair, finally getting up from Tom’s couch to stand with you. God damn, the kid gained a few inches and he’s about to rival you in height. Little bastard he is. That Matt guy was always neck and neck with you in height. 

==> On the inside, you feel a little defeated. Deep down, you’ve always wanted to talk to the guy who shot that bastard down… at least to like, _thank_ him or something. You never got that opportunity, and at this rate you don’t know if you ever will. Now you feel some fluffy-squishy urge of… what, wanting to help? Is that it? You’ve never felt an ounce of compassion for these guys ever, and now suddenly? You do?

==> Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you?? With them?? All these years of petty rivalry have turned you into a robot, and suddenly being hit with the beam of feelings is enough to make you crumble internally. Un-fucking-believable. Eduardo, you have gone soft, and you are very, very disappointed in yourself.

\-------

The sudden slam of the two giant doors opening startle Pau, who is right behind Tom. He didn’t expect this… “meeting”, to go as such. He didn’t realize that Tom was feeling this self-destructive, otherwise he would have approached this differently, perhaps even offered to calm him down first. But no, it’s too late now.

Tom is about to release all of his anger and frustration into whatever he planned to say, but any thoughts in his head immediately vanished upon opening those doors.

Pat’s head shot up, hand instinctively going to his holster on his left leg. Tord, once calmly sitting on his desk, couldn’t keep his eyes off the guy who nearly ripped his doors off the hinges.

Tord speaks quietly. “Pat. Pau. Go outside.”

Pau and Pat exchanged confused looks. “Are you--”

“ _Go_!”

And like that, they vanish, pulling the doors closed and standing guard outside. _Finally_ , some fucking privacy.

Tom didn’t move from his spot. He stood, completely terrified at the sight before him. Tord stood at his desk, hands pressed down at the top as he didn't break eye contact. Tword, once peeking from behind Tom’s shoulder, is now walking over to Tord at his desk. Tword raises a finger, pointing at Tord as he remains motionless.


	6. in which twom has to remind tord that he is not a top

==> Suddenly, you’re Tom. You’ve been yanked back into the narrative like a beached whale at the hook end of a harpoon. Your body has gone cold, no thoughts will enter your head as all you can do is stare with a mix of awe and terror.

==> Tord has gotten taller, at least compared to Tword. An eyepatch covers his right eye, and all you can see of his face and neck are adorned with gnarly, deep, and nasty scars. He looks tired, his hair is more disheveled than you remember and his eyes are charged with an excitement you can’t decipher.

==> He’s twitching, and you’re not sure if you should have your guard up or just run away. Is this really what it is? After all this time… Tord was never that far behind? He didn’t actually die? Your eyes keep darting between Tord and Tword. Tword is smirking so widely at you, you _had_ to wonder if this was all one giant hallucinogenic episode and that you were actually losing your mind.

==> Tword assures you, out loud, in response to your inner monologue, that yes, this is real. This is the realest, rawest thing to happen to you in a while. Seconds and minutes feel like hours, you still can’t move, and you can tell Tword is teasing you since he keeps pointing to the features of Tord’s appearance you keep fixating on.

==> Tord grits his teeth, and then sighs. He says hello to you. You don’t respond. He says that it’s pretty rude to enter a room you’ve never been into without knocking. You don’t respond. The tension is so thick, it can be cut with a knife. Tord asks you _hey, are you going to say anything or do I need to force it out of you_? Your eyes twitch, eyebrows lowering into anger and confusion. Finally, you just collapse onto your knees.

==> You expect Tord to charge at you. Hit you. Beat you. Kick you while you’re down. Call Pau and Pat to kick you out or execute you or _something_. Tord doesn’t do any of that. He takes a moment before slowly, cautiously walking over to you. You want to lash out, yell at him to back off, but you can’t move. His gaze went from whatever crazed spark entered his eyes to a gentler expression, a frown on his face as he eyes you up. You only barely look up at him; god, he really got taller, didn’t he? Or maybe it’s just the combat boots?

==> He gets to your knees, about level with you, except you’re slouching. You don’t know what your body’s doing or why it isn’t moving, but you have no power to stop it. Tord concentrates on your face for a moment, and then his eyes move to your hood. Yes, of course he can notice you shaved your head. He may be stupid and cruel and mean and an idiot, but he’s not _dumb_.

==> He asks you what the hell you’re even doing here. You finally speak, albeit your voice is labored. You tell him that you’re here to quit this stupid company, where can you find who’s in charge? He says _you idiot, I’m the one in charge_. Oh great. Just what you wanted.

==> He continues by saying that he didn’t mean for his question to imply that. He’s asking you why you’re here because you should be in bed. Or on a surgery table, if you could just make a goddamn decision for yourself _just this once_. You ask him _how the fuck do you even know that_? Tord calls you a fucking idiot. Why wouldn’t he know? Do you not think he keeps tabs on you or something? He’s your boss, stupid.

==> You call him a creep. Tord shakes his head, claiming the opposite. He reminds you that this visit is under the context of a rowdy employee, and his employer. Is he seriously trying to fucking _roleplay_ right now??? God, even after all these years, he’s still a fucking pervert.

==> You jokingly ask him what to refer to him as. He says ‘sir’. You ask if he’s kidding. He says no. You glance at Tword, who just shrugs.

==> Tord asks you why you want to quit. Your performance is above average for where you are in your department, and you’ve been offered a promotion on several occasions. You say it’s because you want to. Tord says that’s not a good enough reason. You say okay, are you going to decline my desire to quit? Tord says yeah, he is.

==> Tord stands back up, walking back to his desk to write something down. You remain on the floor, and it feels like every bone in your body is jelly. He asks if you plan to stay down there all day, and you tell him that you can’t move.

==> Tord thinks out loud, wishing that this could have been done at a better time. You ask him what he means. He says he wanted this to happen when you were in a better state of mind. You ask him what the hell he’s talking about, and he avoids the question by asking you if you could come back for this another time. Preferably, not when you’re supposed to be _on-duty_.

==> You’re honestly appalled that he would trivialize something like this. After all the shit he did, all the shit he put you through, your friends through… and he just says _to come back later_??? What the hell was this guy’s deal anyways?? You’ve known him for playing dirty, but this is just.. Wow.

==> When you still don’t move, Tord just sighs. He comes back to you, picking you up without any warning or preparation. He doesn’t just sling you over his back like a ragdoll, either; he puts effort in it. He scoops you up by the backs of your knees and your mid back, instinctively rolling your arm to slump around his neck.

==> God, if only you could struggle right now.

==> You ask him what the fuck he’s doing, he says he’s resisting every urge in his body to fucking throw you out the window right now. You notice, however, there’s not a lot of venom behind those words.

==> He gives you a choice; he can either sit and talk to you and send you on your way, or you can spend the rest of the day in a hospital bed. You tell him to bite you. He tells you not to threaten _him_ with a good time. Ugh, fucking pervert, you swear. You ask him why he even has to choose that. He smirks that smirk that makes your blood boil;

_Because, dear friend, we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?_

\---------

==> And now you’re Tord, a few minutes into the future.

==> You had dropped off Tom to the care of Pau and Pat. You tell them _you know what to do_ , and they go off to do what you intended. And what you intended was what you told Tom; putting that stupid bastard back into a hospital bed and having him fucking take care of himself.

==> But why the sudden compassion? Well, you could disguise it as being an employer who passionately cares about his employees, no matter how far gone they are. Twom, however, would disagree with that notion. He had been staring you down that whole time, taunting you as you tried to come to a decision on what to even do in that situation.

==> Twom makes a remark that suggests that you were on the verge of losing your composure. You could have beat him down, you could have strangled him, you could have made him feel the same pain he made you feel that day so many years ago. _But you didn’t_. You decided to place him in one of your stupid powerplay scenarios, but you couldn’t even enjoy the boner it gave you because he wasn’t in the right state of mind.

==> You glare at Twom, but he’s right.

==> Tom didn’t look like himself; his skin was pale, his eyes were heavy and appeared to be inflamed. He shaved his head, evident by the hood that was pulled tightly on his head. You’re surprised he didn’t lose consciousness when he dropped to his knees, you’ll give him that much. Shortly after you had left the office to fetch Pat and Pau, he had passed out.

==> Hoo boy, Tom is certainly for a wake up call when he comes to.

==> You attempt to finally leave your office, only for Twom to step in front of you. Now, you could just step past him; he’s an illusion, and in no way corporeal or able to stop you. But something about the look he’s giving you… stops you in your tracks.

==> You ask Twom what he wants. He smirks at you; _what do **you** want, pretty boy_?

==> You tell him if it’s an offer for him to fuck your mouth while you doze off at your desk, you’re not buying it. Twom says no, not yet, and points out the door. You ask him if he wants you to go after Tom, and he says yeah, no shit sherlock.

==> Why would you do that? All of that talk, and in the end, you were considering just sending him home and letting him come back on his own. Twom shakes his head; he says that you know he won’t do that, given the circumstances. The guy’s at death’s door from the looks of it, and he’s not taking his condition very seriously. You ask him what you should do.

==> The direct approach, you idiot. Twom even says that you’re far from being an expert in subtlety, and Tom’s about as dense as they come sometimes. You’re just going to have to give him that ultimatum you two talked about. You say really? Twom says yes, yes you idiot. Jesus Christ.

==> You finally walk past him, going down the hallway towards a hidden elevator. Twom sticks by your side, jeering you as you try to ignore him.

_You want him. You want him so bad you can’t help it and yet every opportunity you get is stomped out by either him being an idiot… or you. Just you._

==> You’re trying to ignore him. You really are.

==> Finally, you step into the elevator. Although it seems like it closes on Twom, he merely reappears next to you. God, this bastard has no intention of letting you go this time. He’s pawing at the resistant bulge in your pants, and you try not to pay him any mind. You ask him what he’s trying to prove here, and he says that, well, he’s only trying to fill the void of what you _really_ want.

 _Ding_.

==> The elevator stops a bit closer to the top floor of the building than your office. It’s a suite you’ve accommodated yourself with; you’re a busy man, after all. Sometimes it just isn’t worth the time to go home after a long day of work. You’re not interested in fixing something to eat, or enjoying the view from the window; nope, you go straight for your bed. You need to get rid of this tension before you do something stupid, and Twom is wholeheartedly encouraging your decision.

==> The heat in your pants is enough to even make walking uncomfortable. You unbuckle the belt you’re wearing before quickly kicking your pants and boots off. As you sit down on the bed, your fingers are already tracing the bulge in your boxers. It probably isn’t a good idea to be wearing a worn leather glove over your jerking-off hand, so you discard that too.

==> After you’re properly adjusted on the bed, your ungloved hand goes straight for your cock. You’ve managed to get your libido under control, but considering all of the recent events, and your escapade with Tom as Tori… well, any ounce of self-control you’ve gained has gone out the window. You sigh loudly, feeling a weight off your shoulders knowing that no one would be able to hear you up here.

==> Well. Except for Twom.

==> You consider Twom the most cursed being you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He represents and flaunts everything you hate about yourself. He says that _you_ lack subtlety? He should look in a mirror. On days like this, he finds joy in fueling your impulses and letting your imagination run wild. On other days, he’s just the embodiment of what you’re looking for, what you desire sexually. No matter how far you go around, you can never be satisfied.

==> Of course, all of your deep seated issues aren’t all linked to your sexuality. It’s just what you like to believe about yourself. Being a pleasure-addicted adult is a lot easier to explain than your baggage with your worst enemy. Seeing Tom in person again, as yourself and not Tori, was the more exhilarating thing to happen to you in years. More exciting than the political corruption, or the monopoly your company rules with an iron fist; seeing Tom’s anger, his hatred fueled words and yet he couldn’t do anything to stop you… wait, this is Twom whispering in your ear again, isn’t it?

==> _You got me_ , Twom mutters as he snuggles up next to you. His fingers trace over your hip bones, a groan escaping you as he presses down on the tender flesh connecting your legs to your body. Of course it’s not actually happening; you wish it was, but it’s not. Your hand moves faster as you're desperate to get yourself to finish. Twom says why the rush? You don’t answer him.

==> You turn yourself around onto your side, away from Twom, still trying to get yourself off. You freeze as you feel Twom’s hand gently ghost over your lower back. It’s creeping down further, but you can only pick your speed back up. You lift your one leg up involuntarily, and Twom makes an intrigued noise.

==> It only takes Twom squeezing your ass to make you cum. You manage to catch most of it in your hand; the remaining drips stain your sheets. Twom sighs; _did you mean to finish that quickly_? You say yes, you did; you have shit to do. Twom’s hand moves back to caress your hip; _are you sure_?

==> Yes, you’re sure, and you get off the bed. You look in the mirror hanging on the wall; your scars seem to shine a bit brighter than you remember. The air of confidence you wore while dealing with Tom earlier was gone. Even if it was a quickie, your legs still ache from your orgasm. It feels a little awkward to walk, but you push yourself through it.

==> It’s getting late at this point; you honestly don’t know how much time has passed in between seeing Tom and being in your suite. You’ve dressed down a little bit; just some black sweats and your old red hoodie. It’s a little tattered; you sew the ripped parts back on yourself, but you still appreciate the warmth it provides. You keep your eyepatch on, and decide it’d be better for you to just wear slippers. It’s after hours; you don’t need to be professional.

==> As you saunter towards the door, you look at Twom. No, you glare at him.

_I am going to finally put this dying horse to rest._

\--------

The smell of disinfectant, growing stronger with each passing hour (somehow) was enough to wake Tom up from his involuntary slumber. He had a headache, and was properly smothered in a plush hospital bed. He even had an IV hooked up to him, and he was careful not to move his arm too suddenly.

Maybe it all really was a dream? Tom’s thoughts stirred as his vision struggled to focus on the white room. He never put his glasses on when he left the house at first; he didn’t even know how he made it as far as he did.

Oh, right.

The last thing Tom remembered was being face-to-face with Tord, after years of not even knowing for certain if he lived through the incident. His first instinct would have been to deck Tord if his body didn’t completely shut down on him. And the fact that Tord didn’t raise a finger to hurt him… was really, _really_ confusing to Tom. God, he had a headache.

He could hear distant footsteps. They were softer, a bit scratchier; definitely not coming from a pair of boots that he remembered Tord was wearing. He glanced around the room; Tword was nowhere to be found. For once, not having Tword constantly up his ass worried Tom. Tom sighed out loud; what the _fuck_ , man.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

Tom’s head shot over to the direction of the voice. Tord peeked his head into the room, a neutral expression on his face as a cigar hung out of his mouth.

“Hey, idiot. Are you mute?” Tord’s eyebrows furrowed as he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “You were not very talkative earlier, either.”

“Fuck you.” Tom managed to let out.

“Aw, that’s not very polite to say to the person who decided _not_ to kill you on sight.” Tord pulled up a chair, sitting about a foot away from the bed for good measure.

“Fuck you.” Tom repeated breathlessly.

“Did your vocabulary not improve even after all these years? Say something else, Christ. I am not going to hurt you in this state.” And Tord was being honest. Well, unless Tom decided to try something.

Tom grit his teeth. He didn’t want to be civil; he wanted to do so many _violent_ things to Tord. His anger was boiling over in his stomach, but he managed to keep his cool on the outside. “...Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Tord raised an eyebrow. “That is a vague question; I do a lot of things for no good reason, or I don’t even know the reason myself. You will have to be specific---”

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Tom finally managed to get out.

Tord’s neutral expression changed into a smirk. “You want me to?”

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

“I’m kidding, Thomas.”

“ _Don’t_ call me Thomas, you filthy fucking co---”

Tord did a complete 180, his robotic prosthetic immediately reached to pin Tom’s head to the pillow. Tom struggled under his grip; Tord was a lot stronger than Tom had calculated.

“Listen to me carefully, Thomas.” Tord repeated the name Tom would bite his head off over, but Tom remained silent. He could feel his breathing getting more difficult as Tord put the weight of his arm closer to Tom’s neck. “You are in a very sensitive situation right now. You want to die? You want me to kill you? Is that what you want so so badly after being able to see an old friend again?”

“W-we’re not… fr-friends….” Tom struggled to speak.

“Shut up.” Tord ordered. Tord pressed his face so close to Tom’s, Tom could smell the smoke on his breath from his cigar. Their foreheads were touching, the strong smell of aromatic vanilla stung Tom’s nose. “I am giving you many chances. The least you could do for my kindness is to listen to what I have to say, before I stop playing _nice cop_. Are we clear?”

Ugh, Tom didn’t have much of a choice. It felt degrading to be shrunk down to something like this. Had he not been in the condition he was in… “F-Fine….”

Tord sprung back off him almost immediately. Tom gasped for air and attempted to ease the forming bruise on his neck until he realized that Tord had handcuffed him to the bed.

“You fucking _handcuffed_ me to the bed?!”

“Of course I did!” Tord answered matter-of-factly and gave a shrug. “You really thought I would just let you loosely lay here and get any opportunity you wanted to jump me? You think I’m stupid?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Well, too bad. You will remain as you are until we’re done here.” Tord sat back down, crossing one leg over the other. He tipped the dripping ash of his cigar onto the floor before taking another puff, blowing the smoke away from Tom.

Tom groaned, and relaxed his hands into a position where the handcuffs wouldn’t cut off any circulation. “Alright, so what do you want?”

“Well…” Tord glanced around the room as he pondered an answer. “First of all, you need to not rush into your boss’s office with the intent to _quit_ your job if you have a terminal condition.”

“ _Right_.” Tom didn’t hide his snarl. “And aside from you being my boss, _sir_ , why the fuck do you care?”

“I have my reasons.” Tord answered. “And along with my reasons, I hold a proposition for you. Something that could very much assist you in your future.”

“Very selfish of you to assume that I want a future at this point.” Tom spat at him.

“Oh, but you do, Tom. Does not seem like your temper has changed over the years, either.” Tord blew some more smoke. “Do you not want to at least hear what I have to offer you?”

“...Fine.” It was the least Tom could do. There didn’t seem to be any immediate repercussions to declining, so he figured he should at least hear Tord out.

“Cool.” Tord answered casually. “I am sure you know you are on a tight schedule. Dealing with a pretty big, life-changing decision having to do with your eyes.”

“Yeah?”

“I will spare you the gorey details and additional medical terminology---” Tord paused for a moment, thinking of his next sentence. “But I offer you an alternative to your future if you go through with the surgical procedure suggested to you.”

“..Go on.”

“Over the years, both before and after our last meeting, I’ve invented shit. Like a lot of shit. This factory? My idea, take notes.” Tord beamed a little, but continued with his casual tone. “Sure, this factory is centered around military development, I have also been dabbling in the medical world as well, because I did not feel ‘challenged’ enough…”

Tom squinted at him. “Get to the point.”

Tord sighed. “I have been dabbling in theories that have to do with reversing medical abnormalities. Deafness, deformity of certain body parts, even certain forms of cancer…”

“So you’re going to reverse-engineer my cancer.”

“Not quite.” Tord paused yet again, trying to decode a way to simplify his explanation. “...I have divided this sort of operation into two phases. Both would include the removal of your eyes, and the restoration of your eyesight. However, the difference is the amount of complications at play, and how much longer you decide to put off your decision.”

Tom silently nodded, and Tord took that as a gesture to continue.

“The first phase would just consist of reversing your eyesight. Assuming that the plague had not spread to other major organs, I could simply have your eyes removed, and either ‘fix’ them or replace them completely. Probably the simplest way to go about it.”

Hm, that sounded sort of appealing to Tom. Only sort of. His guard was still very much up. “And the second phase?”

“The second phase would be the scenario in which your cancer would have spread beyond just your eyes. Yes, the formerly mentioned operation would be put up, but there would be other things to be done as well. Repairing your organs and eliminating any trace of abnormalities, to start… it would be very difficult on my end, and very labor-intensive for your body to keep up with; it would make you weaker than you already are.”

“So I’m on a time limit.”

“A tighter one than you thought originally, yes.”

“And how do I know you’re not bullshitting me? You really think I believe you dropped every bit of hate for me over these past years and now you _suddenly_ have some amount of goodness in your heart to help me?”

“I understand that the offer seems a bit far-fetched.” Tord kept his composure. “Please understand I have my reasoni--”

“Fuck your reasoning, man. You make it sound like I’m the only one you fucked over. What about Edd? Or Matt? Or our neighbors whose friend you murdered? You think you’re gonna get a clean slate just because you decide to do one goddamn good thing for _me_???”

Tord grimaced. “No, I don’t.”

“Then stop acting like it.”

“Alright, then what do you want? Clearly since it seems like I am the one who wants the guarantee of your future more than you do. You want something in exchange? Come on, lay out your cards.”

Oh boy, Tom could say a plethora of things that would only result in him being in more hot water than he already was. Tord stared at Tom expectantly, tapping his metal fingers on the side of his leg.

“...First of all.” Tom started. “You need to talk to Edd and Matt first.”

Tord raised an eyebrow. “Do I need their wishes or something?”

“Yeah, actually, you do. And you need to apologize. And I don’t mean some phony bullshit _I’m sorry_ , got it?”

“...Right. Okay. I accept.” Though, Tord sounded a bit reluctant.

“I’m not done.” Tom continued. “You need to guarantee their safety, too. I have a pretty good reason to suspect you and your stupid army are behind all of the chaos lately. Guarantee their safety and livelihood, put them under your protection and keep them out of trouble.”

“I accept.”

“And if you break any of these conditions, or any conditions set in the future, I cut ties with you. We’re done. I don’t care how much shit you’ve piled onto my plate. We’re finished.”

Tord hesitated, giving Tom another “I accept” as he brought his non-prosthetic hand to one of Tom’s handcuffed hands. It was a little bit of a struggle, but they managed to shake hands.

“Alright.” Tord stood up. “So… this means you are consenting to the procedures I have discussed with you.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“But.. at the very least.” Tord continued. “I do not want to talk to Edd and Matt right away.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You know I’m not just going to take that answer, right?”

“I know.” Tord took a step closer to the bed. “The least you can do is just take this as it is. I think you know what I am going through; you barely held a complete conversation with me earlier because of how shocked you were. Hell, even right now I can sense the both of us tripping over our words.”

Tom didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t like the fact that he was feeling sympathy for someone he hated more than anything. He didn’t know what was possessing him to feel the way he felt, nor did he understand why he even had an ounce of trust towards Tord anymore. Tord’s look of worry seemed genuine, even with his face being obscured with that stupid eyepatch and all of those scars.

“...Fine.” Tom reluctantly agreed. “You get time. Not a lot, but some. I’ll know when you slip up, commie.”

“Right, right, Jehovah.” Tord turned around, heading for the door.

“Wait, you’re just gonna leave my ass here?” Tom asked, confused.

“For now, yes.” Tord responded, and peeked back at Tom. “Once your IV is done, I’ll make sure you head back home. Expect a call from your clinic in a day or two.”

\--------

==> You are now Twom.

==> You are trapped in a whirlpool of emotions right now, brought on by Tord and his conversation with Tom.

==> God, it was so boring. You were hoping he would’ve been done sooner. You kept your distance from the both of them, for once, not wanting to influence any of Tord’s words. It was one of the only times you’ve ever heard Tord speak unwarranted and unfiltered.

==> After the conversation was over and Tord had left the room, you snaked along behind him, fangs bared and eyes flashing. Once you both were a safe distance away, he let his anger out by punching the wall of the elevator. Suddenly, a rush of fury fills your body.

==> You raise an eyebrow, and ask him what’s wrong. He says _you_. You say _me_. He asks you where the fuck you were during all of that. You say _oh, you know, around_ , with a smirk on your face, hands up defensively. Tord claims it’s your fault he sounded like such a fucking idiot.

==> You ask him what he means, and he punches the wall of the elevator inches from your head.

==> He tells you that he sounded so withdrawn, so neutral, so _soft_ and _submissive_. He hates it, he says. You ask him what the problem is with that. Tord says his intention was to intimidate and get Tom to comply, not to ease him into the deal and have to bend to his fucking conditions in order to get him to agree. You still don’t see a problem, you say, why should he see the fake side of Tord?

==> Tord growls at you, saying that he needs to be a leader. You say he’s a pretty good leader already. He says that he needs to have a grip over _everything_ , including his enemy. It’s some weird impulsive behavior he picked up due to his growing insecurities over the years, and you never really understood it despite being a part of him. You ask him why, he says _why does it matter_? You say.. Well, you say that it’s not good to lie to people.

==> _Oh now you suddenly care about lying_ , Tord snarls as he grabs your neck. At this point in the delusion, you’re tangible. No one else has entered the elevator at this point in your conversation, so it’s about time Tord began to get physical. You ask him what he hoped to accomplish from that whole ordeal. Tord replies with one word; control. You just laugh at him; hoo boy, he’s a real riot, you tell him.

==> You can see a vein begin to pop on a visible part of his head. Okay, okay, you say, calm down.

==> He asks you what the _fuck_ gives you the authority to speak to him as if you really know him. You say, well, because you _do_ know him. You’re literally a part of him, as unfortunate as that sounds to both of you. You say that Tord never intends to control Tom as much as he claims now. If anything, it’s the other way around. Tord tells you to get to the point.

_It’s always been a deep seated desire of yours for him to destroy you, hasn’t it?_

==> Ding.

==> The elevator opens, bringing both of you back to the suite from before. Tord lets go of your neck and storms inside, and you follow him slowly.

==> You tell him to listen to reason; he can’t hide in his insecurities forever. You know better than anyone that the only thing Tord loves more than being the one in power, is being the one dominated. Being the one who gets to tremble under someone’s foot, be the recipient of hot breath on his ear, receiving the---

==> Tord screams at you to _please just shut up_. A mix of sadness and anger is present on his face as his hands had moved to his head to grip his hair. You just shrug; he’s only upset because deep down, he knows you’re right.

==> Tord moves to his bed, flopping on top of it, kicking off his slippers, and stuffing his face into the pillows to scream. You follow him, standing beside the bed as your hand moves to rub circles onto his lower back. He doesn’t tell you to fuck off immediately, which means he’s at least trying to calm himself down.

==> You tell him it’s okay that he feels the way he does, and he denies you once again. You sigh, getting onto the bed from the opposite side to lay down next to him. You look at him intently as he groans into the pillows. You ask him what he plans to do now, and he doesn’t answer you.

==> Slowly, you bring your hand back to his lower back, sliding up the hem of his hoodie to reveal the skin underneath. Scars riddle the skin, some fresher than others, and Tord twitches from your touch. You trace unknown shapes into the skin, and you can feel him shudder and sigh underneath your fingers. You tell him to just relax already, and he moves his head so one of his eyes is looking at you.

==> It’s a bit glassy and tear-stained; you can tell he’s frustrated, and your expression eases to something gentler. You inch a bit closer to him, brushing the hair out of his face so your heads are touching. Your hand moves up his back, hiking up the hoodie just a little bit more. He asks you why you’re doing this; you return his question with another one; _why do you want me to do this_?

==> Tord flips himself over onto his back, revealing the stress on his face as he pulls you closer to him. You know how this goes by now; you move on top of him, noses just barely brushing against each other as you look at each other. Your hand moves to remove the eyepatch from his face, tossing it off the bed. He can’t see out of that eye anymore, the iris a bit cloudier compared to his normally gray eyes.

==> That same hand moves to trace his jawline, your thumb brushing over his lower lip as he stares at you. He asks you, again, why you’re doing this. You say it’s because he wants it; he asks you _how do you know I want this_? You chuckle, and tell him to shut up. He talks way too much for your liking sometimes.

==> Finally, you kiss him. He complies immediately, melting into the action as his hands move to caress your neck. Any apprehension he had to your touch before completely disappeared in that moment of contact. You know how this song and dance goes; Tord has escaped into his fantasies and right into your arms more times than you can count. If it keeps him from hurting anyone or himself, then you suppose you can support this coping mechanism for now.

==> Within minutes, you’ve gotten him down to just his boxers. He’s done the same to you, and it’s fine. Gentle kisses turn into exchanging sets of teeth along each other’s lips, nails digging into skin and teasing touches along the bulge in Tord’s boxers. You finally move from his mouth, tracing kisses and nips down his neck and chest. Your tongue traces along the skin near the waistband of his boxers, and you finally decide to pull them down.

==> He’s been rock hard for a while, pre-cum is present on the tip of cock and is even running down the length. You smirk, taking the tip in your mouth without even thinking about it. He groans loudly, placing a hand on your head and curling his fingers through your hair. It doesn’t take Tord long to start pushing and pulling your hair in rhythm to your movements. As you sink down lower, you take to grazing your teeth against the sensitive skin. Tord resists the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, but it’s not like it would choke you anyways.

==> Some more time passes. You have Tord on his hands and knees, face pressed into a pillow as you finger him. You had him suck on your fingers, which is already easy enough since you learned that he was a drooler a long time ago. You also learned that you can go up to three fingers until he starts bitching at you to get on with it. Today, he’s a bit quieter with his complaints. He presses back against your fingers, trying to urge you to go deeper. 

==> You comment on how eager he seems this time. He stutters, telling you to just hurry up already. You say _oh? You want me inside of you that badly? Is the sexual frustration finally hitting a boiling point_? You tease him by slowing your pace, and he growls at you. He tells you, no, he _orders_ you to fuck him already.

==> You laugh at him, thrusting your fingers deep inside of him enough to earn a yelp. You ask him if he really thinks for a second that he’s been in control. He knows you’re running this show, he wants you to hold out and deny him until he’s shaking and drooling just from your fingers. _Do you think it’s gonna be like when you were parading around like that bitch? Flaunting your little body and winning Tom over immediately for a quick fuck? I’m not that nice._

==> You lean forward, continuing to thrust your fingers inside of him, but your other hand moves to put a grip on his neck. Not tight enough to choke him, but just enough to feel his quickening pulse and feel the vibration of his moans. The action only makes Tord more eager; of course he’s into this too. Making him crumble underneath you is the only option now.

==> You eventually move your hand from his neck to his mouth, letting his drool soak your hand to lube yourself up. Unfortunately, you aren’t always guaranteed that high quality brain ghost lube that so _many_ people hear about, so you’ll settle for Tord’s drool. There’s plenty of it; at least that loud, rude mouth is good for something.

==> Before Tord can even gather his bearings after you pull your fingers away, you’re already pressing your tip against him. His hands white-knuckle the pillows as he turns his head to look at you. It’s an expression mixed with shyness and _Jesus Christ, get on with it already._

==> You push in slowly, and Tord’s body only tenses for a second before relaxing to your size. Once he’s adjusted, you don’t hesitate to move. That’s another thing you can’t stand about him sometimes; 9 times out of 10 he wants that sweet instant gratification. You once asked him _what’s the fun in that_ , and he didn’t answer you. Well, you’re in charge now. You’ll drag this out as much as you want to.

==> One of your hands reaches out to grab a fistful of his hair, and you instruct him to arch his back just a little more. When he complies, you manage to pull his head from the pillow as you thrust into him. He really does drool a lot, you think quietly to yourself. As much flack as you gave him about wanting it done quickly, you know you can’t spend forever fucking this guy in his daydreams. His current desire for things to be quick and easy, mixed with his subconscious (that’s you) wanting it to drag out as much as possible seem to be fighting a constant battle with no winners.

==> In this case, it’s a battle of dick-in-ass.

==> Within a few more thrusts, he cums without even indicating that he’s close. He rides it for a minute, pushing back at you to get the most pleasure out of it that he can. You just let him, because what are you gonna do; mentally reject his orgasm? You can’t really control him like that, otherwise you’d be having a lot more fun than you are now.

==> You don’t bother to cum; it’s not really worth it, you don’t really feel anything. If Tord were in a better mood, maybe he’d let you overstimulate him until he’s in tears, but today is not that kind of day. You watch Tord pull away from you and scuttle over to the opposite side of the bed without even looking at you.

==> You ask him if he really plans to just sleep off the mediocre sex he just subjected himself to, and Tord says _yeah, what of it_. You say that maybe he’d want to take a shower first? He says no. You squint at him. _Are you intent on acting like a child right now_? He says _yep_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at the end of every chapter i will share some musics so that you too, reader, can indulge in the erratic hellfire headspace that i assume when i write this dumpster fire out
> 
> for starters, the number 1 song on my mind when i write this: https://open.spotify.com/track/2M9j38t0cz0lGTtLqxRT3r?si=acuz-Bi2Shye9cyPcQ7zJA
> 
> for those too lazy to copy and paste: love in my pocket by rich brian


	7. not his circus, not his monkeys, and not his boyfriend

==> You are now Pau.

==> It’s the middle of the night. You’re exhausted, and now you’re babysitting.

==> Tord had instructed you to bring Tom back to his place, seeing as that keeping him overnight might spell trouble. You injected an anesthetic into his arm to keep him asleep, carried him to your car, and now you’re heading back to his apartment. You’re hoping you don’t run into trouble, but you also know that the world is not always kind.

==> You blow cigarette smoke out of your driver’s window, and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You could be sleeping right now; maybe having a sip of a drink beforehand, or smoking from a very fancy pack of cigars you keep in your nightstand. Pat had offered to take up the job in your place, but you told him that wouldn’t be necessary. Besides, it would be less of a liability if you went anyways. You’re mostly chummy with Edd, so naturally he’d be happy to see that his sick friend is in ‘good hands’.

==> A quick movement of your teeth flicks ash onto your lap. Thankfully, you’re wearing civilian clothing over your work uniform or the uniform Tord has you wear for ‘other work’. Tord instructed you to look as natural as possible, and to make it quick. If Tom’s door is locked, you can always pick it. If you get caught, then you run. Do you leave Tom’s body lying somewhere? Well, depends on where, you guess.

==> The complex is in sight. As you approach it, you don’t see anyone hanging around outside. You suppose there’s no security around; or if there is, they’re not doing a very good job.

==> You and Pat had guarded the door and talked amongst yourselves when Tord had called you both out of the office earlier in the day. You didn’t hear the conversation clearly, but you knew there was a lot of yelling. Tord had given you a code word; a ‘safe word’ to use if you’re within reach and he’s in trouble. You didn’t hear it, and Tord carried Tom out of the office, so at the time you assumed all was well.

==> You don’t really know a lot about Tord’s plans for Tom. You and Pat discussed this and he knows about as much as you do. You know better than to question Tord at this point, so you’ve kept your mouth shut about anything he tells you. Your top mirror allows you to see Tom’s sleeping face, and he remains undisturbed. You have a bit of a hard brake pulling up next to the complex entryway, but you manage to not stir him too much.

==> You sigh to yourself, putting out your cigarette by tossing it out and crushing it with your foot when you step out of your vehicle. You open up the backseat doors, and pull Tom out. You’re gentle enough not to wake him up, but you sling him over your shoulder to give yourself a little bit more mobility. Once you’ve closed up and locked the car, you’re ready to roll.

==> Quietly, you let yourself in. The lobby door isn’t locked, which strikes a bit of concern within you before you dismiss it immediately. You don’t live here, why do you care?

==> Tord had given you Tom’s room number. All you have to do is carry him there. Tord had told you to take the stairs, for it’s a little less suspicious and you’re less likely to run into someone. But _god damn it_ you’re tired, you’ll defy him this one time and use the elevator. You’ll use the stairs going back down, yeah, that’s good.

==> You approach the elevator and press the button with your free hand. After a _ding_ and the whirring of the engine, the elevator door opens. Thankfully, it’s empty, and you quietly step in. You feel Tom fidget in your grasp as the elevator ascends, but he doesn’t wake up. You’re not too concerned with him waking up; you’re just concerned with running into someone you don’t wanna run into.

==> After a few minutes, the elevator _dings_ once again and the doors open. You step out quietly, taking a look around before you start moving again. Your eyes scan the numbers plated on the doors as you try to make sense of their order.

==> Eventually, the door is in sight.

==> And it’s… open?

==> Well, this can’t lead to anything good. However, you still have a job to do. You’re only responsible for _this_ body; the rest of them are not your problem. Not your circus, not your monkeys. You press on.

==> You pop your head into the room. It appears that Edd and the other guy (Mack? Mav? Who knows.) are asleep on the couch. The dull drone of the television fills your ears, and the flickering screen doesn’t seem to faze their slumber. No, no, you can’t spend time observing the environment right now. You spot another room, and it appears to be the bedroom. Cool. Easy drop-off.

==> And easy it is. You lower him onto the bed without a problem, and he doesn’t stir. Tom sighs at the sudden comfort, but that’s about it. Once you’re sure he’s settled, you make your way out.

==> On the way out, you do notice a number of photographs on the wall. You didn’t know someone like Tom even gave two shits about nostalgia, but you suppose you learn new things every day. Most of them are of Tom and his two other friends. There is _one_ that looks particularly old; however, what strikes you is that there’s a section of it ripped away. Not cut, _ripped_.

==> It’s from the top right corner, and you can just barely make out a familiar red hoodie among the shreds. You frown; the indications of such a simple detail is enough to tug your heartstrings a little.

==> _God damn it, get with the program already_.

==> You scoff at the photographs and finally let yourself out of the room. You close the door with a gentle click, and turn around to leave.

==> Until.

==> Oh?

==> Who’s this?

\-------------

==> You are suddenly Eduardo, about 10 minutes into the past. God, you don’t know why you’re up this late. You lost track of time with Edd and Matt earlier; they seemed pretty intent to catch up with you despite… well, all of the bullshit between you guys. You’re genuinely surprised there’s no grudge; maybe considering current events, that’s for the best.

==> You’re so tired, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to go to sleep. You tap your fingers impatiently on the arm of your couch while you watch the dull late night news to keep your brain busy. You debate just saying fuck it and staying up the rest of the night, but that would prove to be detrimental for your sweet second shift tomorrow. God, does it suck to be you.

==> Tom hadn’t come back since you heard him storming off this morning. You had waited with Matt and Edd in hopes that he would turn up. You offered to go out looking, and Edd told you that you didn’t have to. If he didn’t show up by the next morning, then there would be a cause of concern.

==> Edd had stringed together that Tom either went to his job and _didn’t_ quit, or he blew it off all together and went drinking. You think both are pretty plausible scenarios, and you’ve kept them in mind. Hopefully Edd’s right; putting together a search party in the current state of where you all reside would be extraordinarily difficult.

==> You hear footsteps and you perk up. Surely that’s Tom, right? He came back? But they sounded a bit heavy for a guy who left in slippers… maybe someone else? Your senses are heightened, you turn down the television and slowly tip-toe to your door. A few minutes pass, and you hear nothing. Still, you decide to step out and investigate.

==> Oh, _he_ doesn’t live here.

==> You spot a guy in loose clothing, looking awfully suspicious hanging by Tom’s doorway. He locks eyes with you like a deer in headlights. You remember that door being kept open when you left. And he’s… closing it?

==> You ask him, quietly, who the _fuck_ are you? The man squints, and asks you who the _fuck_ you are. You tell him to cut the bullshit and just answer the question. You’re not above calling the police, and you’re definitely not above jumping a stranger.

==> The man relaxes his stance, standing up straight and facing you proper. He’s a little taller than you, but you’re not intimidated. Those eyebrows… wow, what a treasure.

==> Ugh, stop it. Focus, man.

==> You ask him again who he is. He introduces himself as Pau. You’re not satisfied with this answer, as is clearly seen on your face, but he assures you that’s the truth. You introduce yourself, as yourself. He puts his hand out to shake, but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow as he pulls his hand back.

==> You ask him what he’s doing here. He says that he was dropping something off. You ask him what, he says a little _something_. You say that you don’t like getting your patience tested this time of night, and he just smiles at you. It’s an empty smile, and it doesn’t mean much to you; if anything, it feels like he’s just stalling for time.

==> Pau sighs. He explains to you that he’s a friend of Edd’s, and he was dropping something off. He happened to see Edd in Tom’s room, and just decided to make his delivery in there since the door was open. You nod; yeah, yeah, good explanation you suppose. Pau’s smile lights up a bit as he gets more comfortable. He asks you if Tom had shown up yet, and you shake your head for a no. His smile doesn’t fade; he says that he hopes he turns up soon, and you quietly agree.

==> You do say that there’s one more thing you want to ask him. Pau nods, and tells you to go ahead.

_How did you know Tom’s missing? Edd told us not to tell anyone._

==> Pau’s smile cracks slightly. He composes himself after a second, explaining that he works with Tom. Of course he would know that Tom wasn’t at home. You ask if he saw him today, and he confirms this. But you say _Tom wouldn’t have had any indication of running away_. Pau disagrees, saying that he found Tom in a disheveled state. You ask him what happened after that, and Pau doesn’t answer.

==> You repeat the question, and Pau frowns. He’s not happy with you.

==> You ask him why he’s not answering your question, and he retorts by asking you why it’s any of your business. You tell him that it’s more of your fucking business than his. Pau disagrees.

==> A corner of your mouth turns up in a smirk as you see him take a step closer to you. His face is illuminated in the hallway light. _That face_. You remember that face. A glimpse of it, but the details all fall together when he’s finally revealing himself. You can’t help but stare at him; every emotion you’ve been burdened with over these past few years appearing on your face all at once.

_You’re one of his lackeys, aren’t you? That Tord guy. I can see that symbol under the collar of your shirt. If you’re gonna disguise yourself, you should do a better job of hiding your shitty propaganda, you motherfu----_

==> You don’t even know what hits you. Pau immediately strikes your neck, keeping you in a chokehold with one hand as he presses your body against the wall with his. His other hand blocks you from speaking with a cigarette stained leather glove.

==> Pau tells you that you talk too much. You should _really_ keep out of things that have nothing to do with you. His grip gets tighter, and you can feel your airways closing up. Your eyes remain fierce and challenging; he wouldn’t just off you in a hallway, right? Anyone could walk through here at any moment, doesn’t matter how late it is. World’s kind of weird like that.

==> Pau tells you that if you value your life and your memories up to this point, you’ll keep quiet. Do you _really_ want to challenge the livelihood of your neighbors after you’ve tried to move on? This is your livelihood too, and perhaps he doesn’t know that. You manage to speak past his hands, if only in a whisper; _let me go_.

==> Pau realizes that you’re not going to go down quietly, and reluctantly backs off. His hands are up as he steps back out of the light. You’re left gasping, and you manage to keep yourself quiet and you balance your weight on the wall. You look at Pau; he’s not smiling, but you can tell something’s boiling inside of him.

==> He tells you again to stay quiet. He’ll know if you talk. And he’ll be back.

==> He quietly walks away, disappearing into the darkness of the stairway as you remain against the wall. Man, what an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter is short due to, you know, school n shit (im in college)
> 
> song recommendations include
> 
> glass animals songs mostly
> 
> mostly black mambo and take a slice
> 
> just listen to how to be a human being and ZABA and you'll get it


	8. bath tub therapy session, the eddsworld equivalent of a beach episode

==> You are Tom again, but finally at home.

==> Waking up in your bed makes you feel as if what transpired yesterday was a dream. However, a piece of paper in your pocket convinces you otherwise.

==> Tord had left you his phone number. It’s different from the one he had before, and he writes to not give it to anyone else. He also included Pat and Pau’s numbers; their numbers under Tord, not their professional ones. The note concludes to contact Tord as soon as you wake up, but that can wait. You stick the paper into your nightstand, and stand up from your bed.

==> You’re a little wobbly on your feet, but you manage to keep upright. Your glasses are still on your nightstand, and you immediately grab them to put them on. It doesn’t make a dramatic difference in your vision at this point, but it’s an improvement. You quietly walk out into your living room to see Edd and Matt happily snoring on your couch.

==> Right. You might owe them an apology. Or ten.

==> Edd’s sleeping face is always so soothing. You could never understand how a guy who shoulders all he does can sleep so calmly. It seems like Matt had snuggled up to him and it’s made a pretty cute sight. Almost wants to make you take a picture.

==> Oh, what’s this? It seems your phone has mysteriously appeared in your hand….

==> Okay, we get it. You take several pictures at several different angles; flash off, though. You’re not an asshole.

==> You do notice that there’s a lot of missed text messages. You slide to view them, and a majority of them are from Edd and Matt. And one unknown number. It’s from.. A few minutes ago?

_I told you to text me when you woke up, Thomas._

==> Okay, that’s a little creepy.

_youre a fucking weirdo tord seriously_

==> A response buzzes in almost immediately. You decide to sit at your little kitchen table; you’ll let Edd and Matt sleep for a few more minutes.

_how did you even know i was up???_

_Lucky guess?_

_bullshit and ill never believe you_

_Alright then.  
I didn’t text you to show off my sick detective skills.  
Are you alone? I’d like to have a call._

_nope  
apparently matt and edd crashed on my couch when i left  
and theyre still here  
and sleeping as far as i know_

_Damn it.  
Well, I think I can convey it in text just as well.  
I’m sending a file that has the time and location of your next appointment.  
It will be some additional tests in combination with any other check-ups.  
Once we get those results, we can work on your eyes._

_what about talking to edd and matt  
i didnt forget about that you know_

_Don’t worry.  
I am still coming up with some way of approaching them.  
I may have an idea, but I’ll present it to you at a later date.  
For now, let’s focus on your treatment.  
I’ll meet up with you after your next appointment and we can strategize from there.  
Any questions?_

_not really  
for once youre being pretty straightforward_

_Was that a compliment?_

_never._

_Figured as much._  
If you have any questions or concerns, you have zero excuse to not know my number by now.  
Be sure to eat some breakfast, Tom. 

==> God, that guy is sure a pain in your ass. You close the texting app, placing your phone face down on the table as you sigh. The appointment is for two days from today, and you wish it was sooner. You just want to get this shit over with. You can feel your body getting worse and worse each day, and you can’t tell if it’s the cancer or the chemo that’s causing it.

==> Still… breakfast. Hmmm.

==> Before you can even think about that, you hear something stirring from the couch. When you look over, you see Matt’s sweet little carrot top pop up with a yawn. He catches sight of you, and immediately springs into action.

==> He yells your name before using Edd as a launchpad to get off the couch and in your face. You underestimate his strength as he squeezes you into a bear hug. A pained groan can be heard from the couch; Matt must’ve stepped on something sensitive of Edd’s.

==> Edd does eventually pop his head up, eyes widening at the sight of you and Matt resting comfortably on your lap. Though, that look of wonder quickly turns to something that equates to the expression of a torn and disappointed mother.

==> You grimace. You weren’t looking forward to this conversation.

==> Edd gets up, albeit he struggles a little as he’s recovering from the blow he received from Matt. He doesn’t smile at you; no, it’s not because he’s not happy to see you.

==> He asks you where you went. You told him you went to work to quit. Edd approaches you, saying _and what_? You say _and what what_? His face strains; he knows that the factory isn’t that far away from the complex. He knows that you brought your phone with you. What kept you for the whole day and night?

_Don’t tell them. It’s your word, Tom._

==> You can hear Tword’s whispers just barely graze your ears. Of course he’ll hold you to keeping your promise.

==> You go quiet as Edd stares at you, annoyed and expectant. Matt has finally left your lap and awkwardly stands between you. You don’t have an answer.

==> Edd grits his teeth; you can tell he’s trying to fight back any further emotion. He asks you if it was worth giving him and Matt consecutive heart attacks from leaving out of nowhere. Did you go out drinking? Did you go _anywhere_? Did you go on a joy ride and wreck the car?

_Ahaha… we left the car there? Oops._

==> God damn it.

==> You tell him none of that happened; you went to work, you said you were quitting, and you don’t remember the rest because you passed out from shock. Someone drove you home which is why you don’t have the car. Your phone died, which is why you didn’t answer it. You try to compile an explanation that satisfies all of Edd’s concerns and questions. You can see his face softening as you keep talking.

==> But most importantly, _you’re sorry_.

==> Edd chuckles, but the tears are already starting to pop up in his eyes. He says you’re an idiot; why are you apologizing? Anyone would be super stressed out and break down if they were in your shoes right now. Why am I even angry at you? Why am I acting like such an asshole?

==> It’s hard, but you manage to stand up and approach him. Without a pause, you grab him for a tight hug. You feel your own eyes watering, and that feeling is solidified to reality when you feel Matt snake his arms around you from behind. God, these idiots. You love these idiots more than you’ll ever admit out loud.

==> All three of you remain hopelessly tangled in each other for what seems like hours. No, it’s only been a solid minute. Time definitely started moving more slowly. You can feel Tword staring at you as this all goes down, but he doesn’t offer anything constructive.

_You think Tord misses this too?_

==> A sharp knock interrupts the moment. Edd is the first one to wiggle away to answer the door on your behalf. Matt still clings onto you, and you just let him do what he wants. For once, you’re not going to push him away when he’s being obnoxious.

==> Edd opens the door, and he sticks his head out. It appears he’s speaking to someone, but you can’t quite hear what’s being said. Before you can attempt to see what’s going on, Edd is pushed out of the way.

==> Oh _hell_ no.

==> The fury in your eyes does not match the confusion in the eyes of your unexpected guest. Or wait. Are they expected? Did Edd invite this asshole?

==> Oh right. It’s Eduardo.

==> But regardless, you still feel yourself tense up as you both make eye contact. Eduardo sighs, assuring you that you’re all on a truce for right now. When your body relaxes, he takes it as a good signal to step inside proper. Edd closes the door behind him, and all 4 of you guys are now trapped in your apartment.

==> Eduardo can’t keep his eyes off you. It’s not a malicious expression; it’s a mix of confusion and worry. You suppose it’s warranted due to how pale you’ve gotten, the fact that your shaved head is exposed, the band-aid where your IV was inserted. You definitely look like you went through some shit yesterday… more shit than you’re going to admit.

==> Eduardo asks you how you’re doing. You tell him you could definitely be better. Before he can get another question in, Matt chimes in and asks you about your _surgery_. You say _huh_? Matt takes out his phone; he and Edd had subscribed to updates on your treatment via text. Apparently the Enucleation… is already scheduled? Before your follow-up? Did you miss a text message from Tord or something?

==> Your confusion is quickly overtaken with mock relief. Yes, you say, you decided to go through with the surgery. Your _boss_ talked some sense into you. Naturally, this makes Edd and Matt happy enough to initiate round 2 of the suffocating bear hugs. You happen to glance at Eduardo, who has quite a conflicted expression as he stares at the photographs on your wall.

==> It makes you wonder.

\-----------

==> You’re Pau once again.

==> And naturally, you’re in trouble.

==> The discipline is evident by the fresh bruise on your face. Not skin-on-skin, but skin-on-robotic-prosthetic. Tord isn’t happy with you.

==> His anxiety was at its boiling point already, but knowing that _someone_ knows who you are and that _someone_ knows Tord is still around… hoo boy, his tantrum was minimal compared to what he could’ve done.

==> Pat stands behind you, completely silent. He can’t say anything to help you, either.

==> As much as Tord likes to put on the facade of your fearless future leader, he’s awfully sensitive. He lets his emotions get the best of him sometimes, and that emotional instability easily translates to impulse and uncontrolled passion. Perhaps he got a bit cocky, thinking that you could drop off Tom’s unconscious body back home without getting caught.

==> Would you say this? _Hell no_. You value your life to the smallest extent, _at least_.

==> You’ve seen the many cracks and pieces of Tord over the years, but this one certainly takes the cake. You know he’s a sucker for control; being the one in control, you mean. He doesn’t play this off on you and Pat as much as anyone else. It seems that Tom giving him lip and managing to put Tord into a corner as opposed to the other way around is eating at him. You fucking up was only the staw that broke the camel’s back.

==> It takes a couple minutes of pacing and mumbling in what you’re assuming is Norwegian before Tord finally stands still. He lets out a huge, pent-up sigh as he runs his hands down his face.

==> His head shoots back at you and it makes you flinch a little. He says it’s _fine_. It’s fine? Yeah, it’s fine. He says that it shouldn’t affect anything. You say _really_? He nods. If this guy, whoever he is, says anything, then so be it! Perhaps he’ll be the one to finally get Tord out of his shell and to stop pussyfooting his overdue (second) reuniting with his old friends.

==> Your eyebrows furrow, but you nod. Sure, you suppose that’s reasonable.

==> There goes Tord, trying to pull some ounce of goodness out of inconveniences. Even in weird situations like these.

==> Tord gives you permission to relax, and you can finally get out of that stiff standing position to rub the bruise on your face. Pat steps up next to you; his face is neutral, but you know that he’s thinking about giving you some ice for that shiner on your face.

==> Tord starts back up again, explaining that since Tom will go to whatever appointments or what-have-you _willingly_ , hopefully a mistake like this won’t occur again. The next phase? Well, making sure Tom doesn’t _die_. The word strikes you as eerie, and it seems that Pat has the same feeling in his gut. Regardless, you both maintain composure.

==> Pat speaks up, and asks if Tord’s referring to complications. Tord confirms this, but he’s pretty confident that it won’t be a problem.

==> Why do you have such a bad feeling about this?

==> Tord’s always been overly confident, but… this is a bit worrying.

==> You don’t really have an opinion on Tom. You’re really only chummy with Edd, but you’ve never stretched to like Matt or Tom. Tom isn’t superhuman; his body is only going to be able to take so much. But seeing your position.. Well, you can’t say much to advise against Tord’s word. You just nod. And so does Pat.

==> Tord returns the nod with his own, along with a smile. It’s not as inflated as his ego; perhaps a bit of genuine happiness and satisfaction with you and Pat. You’ve always been the most loyal to him, after all.

==> And he loves to remind you of this fact too.

==> And as much as Tord unsettles you sometimes, you do enjoy hearing that he values your devotion to him and his cause. You imagine Pat does, too.

==> And after the shared moment of praise, you and Pat are dismissed.

==> Not a single moment passes before you and Pat leave his office. In a way, you’re sort of relieved. It’s only early afternoon, so being able to turn in early is especially refreshing.

==> You both step into the elevator. Tord had made it a point to give you both your own quarters so you’re as close to him as possible. I mean, you never know when Tord will need you guys around for any reason. Sometimes it’s because there’s someone suspicious sneaking around, other times it’s to get something off the top shelf.

==> Pat taps your shoulder to get your attention. You turn to look at him, and his more relaxed expression eases you a little bit. He says he has a question for you, you tell him to go for it. He then asks you if you think Tord’s gone soft lately.

==> Hmmm.

==> You’ve seen many sides of your leader over the years, as has Pat. Varying degrees of cruelty and abrasiveness have come your way over time, and you’ve endured every last one. You do comment that he seems to be slipping, but you’re excusing that to his overly confident approach to this ‘plan’ he has. Pat nods, and agrees with you.

==> However, you haven’t seen Tord this erratic for a while. Maybe it’s just the rush he’s getting from seeing Tom again that’s affecting him this much? Along with his other ‘old friends’, you mean. He’s so close to the next step to seeing Edd and Matt again, but… how long does he plan to put it off for?

==> Well, you can understand just how terribly awkward the reunion will be. Still, if Tom managed to not kill him on sight, then surely the others might be a bit more welcoming. Maybe? You’re having a hard time being optimistic here, and your struggle is very obvious on your face.

==> Pat takes one look at you, and can’t help but to start laughing. He says you look silly when you think that hard, and you tell him you can’t help it. You’ve got a lot on your mind, and Pat says he shares the feeling. 

==> You ask Pat if he thinks Tord can maintain his past friendships and hold his position as the Red Leader. Pat’s expression immediately tenses up.

==> Pat’s hand moves to your shoulder, ushering you out of the landed elevator and into a small lobby. _Let’s go somewhere a bit more private to talk about this_.

\---------

==> And just like that, before all else, you are still Pau. Except you’re about 4ish years into the past.

==> Hoo boy, present day you remembers this day like it was yesterday. Except it was 4 years ago. Which is where you are now.

==> Anyways!

==> You and Pat had heard the commotion from down the street. You were about to track Tord’s robot and follow him via car, only to witness Tord get shot down by a single harpoon. You floor it, rushing to the scene and only braking when you get closer to the wreckage. You hesitantly roll down the window, while Pat steps out from the passenger seat.

==> A quiet sigh of relief passes your lips as you see Tord rise up from the ground. His blood coats the grass beneath him, and it leaves a crude outline of his right arm into the ground. Without your help, he stands up, his right arm limp and gushing in the grip of his opposite hand.

==> It isn’t immediately obvious, but he’s shaking violently. You can’t tell if it’s from the pain or the sheer emotional overload he’s experiencing right now. You finally get out of the vehicle, and with Pat, you slowly approach him.

==> You both stop in your tracks when Tord turns to look in your direction. You don’t even think he can see out of that eye anymore, but the purest rage and anguish is present on his face. The skin was melting off his face but you wouldn’t be able to tell due to all the blood. The grip on his limp arm tightens as his head turns to face the rest of the destroyed robot.

==> Tord quietly walks past you, eyeing the disembodied robotic arm on the ground. He leaves a drippy blood trail as he wobbles over, but he doesn’t seem deterred by this. His good hand releases the grip on his arm as he picks up the robotic arm, eyeing it curiously. You have a good idea of what he wants to do with it, and you silently nod as he turns back around.

==> He still doesn’t look at you or Pat directly. Tord’s eyes are fixed on his three _old friends_ as two of them help the blue-hooded one to his feet. You immediately turn back and rush to the car for a first aid kit. It won’t do too much good, but at least you can control the rate of Tord’s bleeding.

==> Without skipping a beat, you’re by his side and trying to wrap up his massacre of an arm. Pat had already begun loading up the car with any essential scraps he could gather. Tord doesn’t look at you; his eyes are fixed on the three still down on the street, trying to investigate the dust of what was once their home. Sure, Tord had to do what he had to do… but you feel a little bad.

==> A little bad for Edd. He’s the only one you even know in that group. Spare your feelings, Pau.

==> When you give him the gesture that you’re finished wrapping him up, Tord drops to the ground to sit. He makes no noise or any indication of pain; he just sits there, eerily quiet. You debate sitting with him, maybe coaxing him into conversation, but you decide against that. Perhaps you should just leave him alone for a bit.

==> And yet Tord doesn’t move.

==> You pop in to check on him after a few minutes, and he doesn’t respond to you.

==> Pat walks over to take the arm from him, and he doesn’t react to that either.

==> Of all the times you wish you could read minds, right now it would be super convenient.

==> A half hour must’ve passed by the time Pat nudged you to help him help Tord into the car. Tord’s body just sort of ragdolls in your hands; the only response you get is him adjusting himself in the car seat and putting on his seatbelt. You stare at him for a moment before shutting the back door and slipping back into the driver’s seat.

==> You glance at Pat, and you’re visibly uncomfortable. Pat bites his lip and uses his eyes to gesture to the ignition. _We need to go_.

==> Haha, right.

==> You finally turn the key, the engine sputtering and lagging for a moment before finally waking up. You quickly shift and drive the hell out of there.

==> The car ride feels endless. Inside of the car is thick with tension and uncomfortable silence. You can see Pat in the corner of your good eye leafing through some papers. Tord is still quiet and motionless in the back, but you swear you caught him looking back as you drove off.

==> And those next few months. Oh my. Oh _boy_.

==> The nerve damage was so great that Tord had little to no chance of using that arm again. Of course, you were the man who had to do him the honor of amputating it. Unfortunately, Pau, you’re not a doctor. However, you have pretty steady hands and therefore you’re the closest to a doctor Tord has. Of course, regardless of any circumstances, you’re going to do this for him. Or no, you did.

==> The process was unbearable. Even with half of Tord’s face obscured by bandages, the fire was still alive in his one eye. His teeth bit down into a bloody rag he had stuffed into his mouth, his good hand whiteknuckling the metal table he rested on. You grit your own teeth as you brandish the saw to be used for the procedure. You don’t talk him through it; you know not to do that. Cooing and easing Tord through it won’t help anyone involved; it’s best to just get the job done, and move on.

==> He was in tears when it was over. You use what little medical experience you have and bandage him up once again. You quietly ask Tord if he wants to be moved, and he tells you to leave him there.

==> And you do.

==> He doesn’t tell you to move him for 2 days.

==> When he finally requests to be moved, the fury is present in his voice. You carefully pick him up, examining his twisted expression as thoughts raced through his mind.

==> You ask him how he’s feeling. Tord chuckles, and says he feels nothing at all.

==> You ask him if he meant the pain of getting his arm cut off, or something emotional. Tord doesn’t answer you.

\-------------

==> And with that little diversion, you’re back to being present day Pau. Thank god. You really do hate reliving those moments in your life.

==> Sharing the same living space, you and Pat have developed little things and have added them to your daily routines. In this case, it’s chilling in the empty bathtub, passing a bottle of whiskey between you. Yes, you both do this. Yes, your job is very stressful.

==> Pat’s expression softens once he sits down into the tub, ushering you to sit on the opposite side. You have the whiskey, and you quickly pop the lid off before taking a long, well-deserved swig. Pat doesn’t hide his amused chuckle as he reaches for the bottle in your hand.

==> He asks you how your face is feeling, and you tell him you’ll survive. It’s nothing compared to the other forms of punishment you’ve endured before. He supposes so, taking a calmer sip of the bottle. You decide to light up your next cigarette, tossing your stale one into a nearby ashtray. The designated shower ashtray. The schlashtray.

==> You ask Pat if he has an answer to your question from earlier. He stays still for a moment before giving you a shrug. _Do you think so_?

==> Naturally, you reply with a shrug of your own, reaching for the whiskey immediately afterwards.

==> Pat sighs, handing it off to you. _We really need to stop drinking so much_. You huff, and tell him that you’ll both stop drinking when Tord finally dies. He agrees.

==> Not that you want Tord to die, let’s clarify. You both have very strong feelings for Tord in various forms; as friends, as protectors, and in some regard, as caretakers. And there are definitely more forms of your love for Tord to name, but that would take too long. The simplest way to put it is that you both care for Tord very deeply. Despite Tord’s prickly and unpredictable personality, you know that he cares for you two as well.

==> But god, that boy is good at biting off more than he can chew.

==> Another heavy gulp of whiskey sliding down your throat follows as you conclude your thought. The burn in your throat and the burn of your lips from the cigarette is oddly relaxing.

==> However, when you finally catch a look at Pat’s face, he’s frowning.

==> You ask him what’s wrong. He says that he’s thinking about the question you asked, and how neither of you could give a clear answer. You say _well, do you think he can_? Pat stays quiet for a moment.

_No._

==> You furrow your eyebrows. Pat says that considering the circumstances and Tord’s future plans… things are almost destined to fall apart. You ask him if he knows about the “conditions” that Tom had given to Tord, and Pat says it doesn’t matter.

==> Normally Pat isn’t this pessimistic. That’s _your_ job.

==> _Are you really that intent on this blowing up in his face_? He says yeah, a little. If not from Tom, then definitely from the other two. Tord hasn’t even seen Edd and Matt at this point; Pat retorts by asking you if you think Tord ever will. When you can’t give him a straight answer, Pat sighs heavily.

==> Tord has the power to swipe Tom out by his feet and enact whatever operations he pleases and further whatever plans he has in mind. You know this; Tord has gotten increasingly careless with some of his moves over time. You ask Pat if Tord has this ability, then why hasn’t he done it yet? Maybe he’s finally starting to use that pink sludge pile between his ears for once? 

==> Pat doesn’t have an answer for you. He reaches to take the bottle out of your hand and takes an uncharacteristically long sip. You ask him the same question again.

_You think Tord cares about Tom?_

==> When he answers your question with another question, your cigarette almost falls from your lips. You ask Pat if Tord even cares about you two, and he says that’s debatable. Tord has always been an apathetic piece of shit, both to other people and himself. You lost track of how many times you’ve had to leave notes to remind him to eat and bathe and just take care of himself in general. You reach impatiently for the bottle in Pat’s hand, and he gives it up.

==> After a sip that nearly makes you choke, you tell him that you don’t know. If Tord _does_ care, then it’s some twisted perception of what Tord thinks caring is. Pat nods, tapping his chin as he tries to process a response.

==> You wish Tord had kept you and Pat in the room the time that Tom busted in. Perhaps then these questions wouldn’t be so hard to answer.

==> Pat interrupts your thoughts, and asks you how bad it would be if you and he just found Tom and spilled the beans to him. You tell him _fuck no_. If you’re going to die, you’re going to die with dignity and not by one of Tord’s tantrums. Though, you do correct yourself in saying that calling Tord’s reaction a tantrum would be a severe understatement.

==> Ever since Tord managed to get Tom into that company, he had so meticulously put together what he wanted to do, it was almost impressive for how much detail he thought of. It was a little worrying… like, what’s the obsession here? Maybe Tord had some weird unrequited romance to work out; maybe this is some mobius double-reacharound bullshit revenge? You honestly had no idea, and you know better than to question it.

==> You know what? It’s probably both.

==> Hey Pat, have you ever thought of recommending Tord a therapist? He says _yeah_ , but it’s never worked out. _Of course not_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tom-  
> scrawny - wallows  
> needs - verzache
> 
> tord-  
> radioactive - marina and the diamonds  
> poplar street - glass animals
> 
> tomtord in general-  
> love and memories - O.A.R.  
> hold me tight or don't - fall out boy  
> happy pills - weathers


	9. you ever just read a fic and think 'man they should fuck already' but youre writing the fic and youve got about 62 more layers of slowburn to work through

==> You are now Tord.

==> You’re using one of those one-way window-mirrors to keep an eye on Tom during his appointment. You’re genuinely surprised that he even showed up; you figured that he would probably blow you off and tell you to go to hell. Perhaps he cares more about his body than he gave the impression of.

==> Or, you know, he _really_ wants that guaranteed safety for his friends.

==> How sweet of him!

==> He shouldn’t be able to tell you’re standing there behind the mirror, but it almost feels like he’s glaring holes through you. Maybe he’s not a complete idiot and he can tell it’s one of those special mirrors. Not like it’s any big deal to you; he can’t really do much. This is all of your home territory, where Tom is at a severe disadvantage and at a risk of being eliminated immediately.

==> Tom sighs quietly, letting the nurse adjust and prep his arm for blood work. God, this is so boring. You’d be more entertained with Tom spitting in your face and plucking out your teeth. Twom agrees with yo--- wait, how long has he been there for?

==> _Long enough_ , he responds quietly. Wow, this is the most well-behaved you’ve ever seen Twom. Color you impressed, Twom tells you to shove it.

==> Twom asks you what your plan is after today. You say, well, you wouldn’t mind sitting down with Tom for a few minutes. Twom scoffs are you; do you really think it’ll be that easy? He’ll beat you to the ground before you can even get a sentence in, he says. You are confident that you can at least get a little bit of conversation in despite Twom’s comments.

==> You can feel Twom’s hand brush your own. We both know you’re not very good at talking.

==> You push his hand away. Not now; you don’t need an uncomfortable boner right now. Jesus Christ, is your inner sexuality really this annoying, or are you just cursed?

==> Twom shrugs, pointing to Tom in the room. Looks like he’s chatting with the nurse as she stacks document after document in his hands. Ah yes, the longest hour and a half of your life is finally concluding. You make haste in meeting Tom by the reception area, and he gives you an unpleasant squint.

==> _You are not happy to see me_? Tom just glares at you, gripping the papers in his hand tightly. He says that he doesn’t need an escort back to his car. You tell him you insist. He tells you to fuck off.

==> Regardless of him storming away from you, you follow him with a smile on your face. You really don’t know when to quit, do you?

==> Tom turns back to you, telling you to get lost. You say no, if anything, you want to talk to him. After all, he owes you at least that much.

==> Tom groans loudly. _Alright, I’ll fold; lead the way_.

\-----

Tord didn’t bother to hide the pleasure on his face. He led Tom into an elevator, and then into another, and another. One elevator after another eventually led back to Tord’s office. A coffee maker that wasn’t there before sat on the desk, ready to be brewed at a moment’s notice. The two chairs in front of Tord’s desk were pushed together with a small table in between them.

Tom exchanged glances between Tord and the arrangement. “Did you plan this?”

“Would it make you more or less angry if I said yes?” Tord raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Tom didn’t answer him; he stepped into the office so Tord could close the doors behind them. Tom reluctantly sat down in one of the chairs, and Tord sat next to him as he flicked the switch on the coffee maker.

It took a minute for the smell of coffee to fill the air, but it didn’t help with loosening the tension between the two men. Tom sat silently, crossing his arms and looking away from Tord. Tord sat patiently, staring at Tom thoughtfully with his hands folded over his lap.

“What do you want, Tord?” Tom finally breaks the silence, turning his head to face the other.

“What do you mean what do I want?” Tord asked him. “I can’t take a moment to catch up with an old fr-... catch up with someone I have not seen in a while?”

“In this circumstance? No, you can’t. And you shouldn’t.”

“Come on Tom. Is it that hard to believe I have some sort of interest in your life?”

“Yes.”

Tord grimaced. “Alright. Can I just ask questions, and you answer them? Is that easy enough for you?”

“No promises that I won’t give you a smart ass answer.”

“I’ll take it.” Tord sighed and leaned back into his chair. “How’s Susan?”

“She’s fine.” Tom replied, a little confused by the question. “Still patching her up from when she had a whole house collapse on her.”

The corner of Tord’s mouth visibly twitched, but he pressed on. “Was anything else salvaged?”

“Other than some clothes and other items from each of our rooms, no.” Tom shrugged. “Some of your stuff made it out. I think we split that burden between the three of us.”

“...Why?”

“Don’t know. We just did. Next question.”

Alright, fair enough. “What happened afterwards?”

“Dug all of our crap out of the wreckage and moved on.” Tom was visibly fidgeting as he answered. “I found a place while you decided to jerk off my friends that afternoon, and managed to move some of my stuff in before that whole disaster happened. Eventually Edd and Matt followed suit.”

“And you’ve lived in the same place since?”

“More or less. Still neighbors.”

_Ding_. Tord stood up to retrieve two mugs sitting next to the coffee maker. “How do you take it?”

“Black.” Tom replied quietly, taking the cup from Tord once it was poured.

“...Did you ever think that I was dead?” Tord asked as he finally sat back down.

“Yeah. The thought crossed my mind.” Tom sipped his coffee. “But now you’re here. So I’m not really sure what I think now.”

“What? You think I am a ghost or something?”

Tom looked like he was looking at Tord with an uncomfortable expression, but instead was looking at Tword who had happily sat himself on the floor next to Tord’s chair. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“Fair answer.”

And silence.

“Okay.” Tom finally spoke up. What seems like a few seconds on paper was actually a solid five minutes filled with exchanging slurps of coffee and tapping feet on the floor. “What do you want?”

“What _do_ I want…” Tord repeated the question.

“I’m being serious, Tord.” Tom’s gaze moved back to Tord. “You want something? Then say it. I’m really not in the mood for nonsense right now.”

“Fine.” Tord put his cup down. “What I want? What do I want? I want _you_.”

Is.

Did he.

Tword’s eyebrows raised dramatically as he frantically exchanged glances between Tom and Tord. Did he really just _say_ that???

Tom spit up his coffee, choking for a second before managing to put his own cup down. “Shut the fuck up, Tord.”

“I am being serious, Thomas.” Tord reassured, his smile coming back to his face. Twom was staring holes into Tord as he spoke. _This can’t be real, surely I, a brain ghost, am just dreaming this in some sort of subconscious alternate universe and that this fucking imbecile did not just skip 10 steps in his own plan_.

“Tord.” Tom spoke sternly, standing up from his chair. “I am giving you 30 seconds to say something else so I can just _completely_ forget about what you just said to me. And then we can go back to what we were doing before.”

“Why would I do such a thing?” Tord tilted his head. “I said I want you. I mean it.”

“Tord.”

“I want you. I don’t know when it started happening, but I just want you.”

“ _Tord_.” Tom was visibly shaking.

“Come on, why would I dedicate all this time and resources for your health?”

“ _Tord_.”

“Listen, just calm down. Relax. Sit back down, I’ll pour you some more coffee, and I can explain--”

“I don’t want your shitty explanation. Take those words and my name out of your filthy fucking mouth.” Tom grit his teeth, threatening to lunge toward the other.

Tord, as usual, didn’t know when to quit. “I said I want you. I will repeat it again and again until you understand, Tom.”

“ _Want me_??? For what???”

“Things that you would not be able to understand at the moment.” Tord finally stood up. “You are the reason for what I’ve done. I am the reason why you have your job, your position, your reputation. That promotion was only a ploy to get you closer to my level, but of course diversions are inevitable.”

“I’m quitting---”

“No you’re not. We had an agreement.”

“ _God, I hate you_!” Tom finally snapped, grabbing Tord by the collar of his shirt. “When does it end, Tord? I don’t like the games or the destruction or the countless threats on my life. What the _fuck_ do you want from me that’s so good that you need to constantly be in my shadow??”

Tord was unperturbed by Tom’s volume, the spray coming from his mouth or the hateful glare that shot holes through him. Tord could only bring himself to smile a little wider, gloved hands moving to cup Tom’s distraught face. Without skipping a beat and before Tom could scream at him anymore, Tord went for a kiss.

Tom’s entire body went stiff at the motion, all thoughts left his head and the only sense he could comprehend was the taste of black coffee and bitter vanilla in his mouth. Tord took in the taste of fresh coffee from Tom’s mouth and resisted the urge to hum with pleasure. Twom and Tword looked on in horror.

The next thing Tord tasted after Tom was Tom’s fist colliding with his teeth.

Tord was completely caught off guard, still recovering from the fuzzies in his chest from that quick kiss. He was knocked onto his back, and Tom wasted no time getting on top of him and delivering another punch to his nose. Before he could get a third in, Tord grabbed his feisty wrist and held it in place.

“W-Wow, still got that temper, huh?” Tord smirked at him; despite the bleeding nose, he still felt like having his attitude intact. “What is this going to solve? Are you going to kill me now?”

“Shut up!” Tom’s other hand went to finish what the first started, but he instead punched the area of the floor next to Tord’s head.

“You going soft now?” Tord taunted, tightening his grip on Tom’s wrist enough to make him grunt in pain. “Don’t tell me you’re going to stop.”

“What do you _want_ from me????” Tom punched the area of the floor again. His face began to get more and more construed with anger and confusion. His eyes threatened frustrated tears, but he held them back. It’s not the time to get that emotional.

“I’ve missed this, you know.” Tord decided to avoid the question altogether, rhythmithically pressing his fingers into the bones of Tom’s wrist. “Getting into arguments, getting into physical altercations. Reminds me of simpler times, you know? All we are missing is Edd trying to break us u---”

And another punch to the face. Tom’s patience was wearing dangerously thin.

“Please just _stop talking_.” Tom pleaded, managing to release his wrist from Tord’s grip. God, he needed a drink. “Just shut up, Tord!”

“You do not even know what I meant by wanting you--”

“I don’t want to hear it--”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate you, you fucking asshole! You almost killed me!”

Tord sighed, letting Tom continue to yell endless insults to his face. The tears started to show, and Tord almost felt a little bad. He even let Tom wrap his hands around his neck. He wasn’t exerting enough pressure to prevent Tord from breathing; if anything, Tom was holding back significantly. Interesting.

“I guess I should mention something else, since we’re being honest here.” Tord started.

“Oh yeah, go right the fuck ahead, Tord.” Tom snapped at him. “I’m sure it’s not going to lower the chances of me squeezing the life out of you right now.”

“Who’s that girl you met at the gym before?”

Tom’s entire body froze. “That…?”

“That girl, Thomas.”

“How do you--”

“Just answer the question. We’re still playing that game, right?” Tord really shouldn’t be smiling like that when there’s a pair of hands around his neck, but alas.

Tom gave Tword a quick glance before sighing. “That girl… her name was Tori. Why the fuck do you want to know about her?”

“What did you do with her?”

“...Is that really any of your business?”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Really? You’re choosing _now_ to be a pervert?” Tom’s expression changed to one of disgust. “You are literally scum, Tord.”

“You fucked her, right?” Tord’s frantic twinkle in his eyes began to return. “Of course you did. She was just a ditzy bitch fresh from training, right? She’s just easy on the eyes with a cute accent, you got her number the second you were done with that tour---”

“Alright, Tord. I _fucked_ her. I fucked her, okay? Is that enough to get your rocks off?” Tom’s disgust didn’t falter. Sure, he still didn’t remember the process of having sex with Tori, but he knew it happened.

“I know a secret about her.” Tord couldn’t hide his delight.

“Oh really? What, did she take your virginity and didn’t call you back?”

“You wish.” Tord rolled his eyes. “Let me ask you another question; how advanced do you think technology is right now?”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “In what sense?”

Tord really couldn’t hide his delight. “Oh… you know. My company specializes in advances in military, and as you’ve learned, medicine. But we do specialize in a few _other things_.”

“Like?”

“Just cosmetic things. Simple things, really. Mostly having to do with incognito work, disguise modules…”

_Oh_.

Tword stared at Tom as he tried to process what Tord had said to him. It was hard to tell if Tom even understood what Tord meant or not.

“..So that means…” Tom began to trail off.

“I might’ve indulged in my own interests a little while ago.” Tord shrugged underneath Tom. “I have to test my inventions every once in a while to make sure they work.”

“No…”

“So, you know. You may or may not have been my… guinea pig?”

“So that means I… I… Me.. and you?”

“Tori? Not a real person. Hate to break your heart, Jehovah. Hope you were not expecting a call ba--”

And Tom _squeezed_ Tord’s neck with as much force as he could muster. Wasn’t enough to break anything vital, but Tord’s hands immediately moved to pull Tom’s hands away.

“You are so _fucked up_!” Tom finally released his neck, only giving Tord a second to breathe before Tom slapped him in the face. “What the fuck? Are you kidding me? You disguised yourself as some girl to get my attention, _and you had sex with me_????”

“T-To be fair…” Tord coughed out. “I tried it with Edd, and he showed no interest. And Matt is.. W-well, he’s just Matt---”

“The fact that you tried this on _other people_ is fucked.”

“It worked, didn’t it? Don’t tell me you had feelings for this girl.”

“No, I didn’t, but---”

“ _But_ you fucked me. You fucked me!” Tord almost seemed a little too thrilled at this. “You know, it would have been a little more fun to let this prank run on a bit longer, but considering the state of your body, might be a good idea to get all that stress out early.”

Tom’s hands went back to Tord’s neck. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just end you right here.”

“Because you won’t.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Tord smirked. “And if it is? Will you try?”

“Stop fucking with me.”

“Too late for that one, Thomas.”

Tom’s hands gripped a little bit tighter. “You’re absolutely unbearable. If this is some sick twisted way of telling me I’m your fucking sex fantasy, you can shove it up your ass.”

“You should move your hands, Tom.” Tord warned the other gently. “You don’t want me to pass out underneath you, do you?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want someone to take advantage of you too, you sick fuck?”

“Never said anything like that. You’re very good at putting things in my mouth, even if they are not always words..”

“ _SHUT UP_!!”

Tord closed his eyes in preparation to be strangled again, but was surprised to not feel increasing pressure on his neck. When Tord opened his eyes, Tom was completely still. The cold touch of a gun barrel was pressed against the back of his head. Tom’s hands slowly released Tord’s neck and went up in the air.

Tord switched glances between Tom and Pau, who was the wielder of the weapon. Pau must’ve heard the commotion and finally decided that _enough was enough_ and to break up this little rendezvous before it got out of hand. Tord finally registered the throbbing of his bleeding nose and teeth, along with the forming bruises around his neck.

Pau harshly instructed Tom to stand up and step back, and he followed those orders without a word of protest. Tord remained on the floor, groaning at the now familiar pain in his body. He kept his eyes on Tom, who didn’t even spare him a glance back as Pau escorted him out of the room. Twom had moved from his spot to sit next to Tord on the floor.

“You happy now?” Twom asked.

Tord nodded silently.

“You like making him angry or something?”

Tord nodded again.

“God, you’re such a freak.” Twom sighed, tapping his fingers on his lap. “You think he’ll come back?”

Tord chuckled quietly and muttered out a quiet _he will_ under his breath.

Pat had heard the little comment, and questioned Tord about what he meant. Tord hadn’t even noticed Pat was helping him up. Tord assured Pat that it was nothing important; at least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote a majority of this chapter while looping WAP. thats it thats the only song that comes to mind
> 
> also last update for 1week+ i have depression


	10. tomtord is textbook kismesissitude no you cannot change my mind, if you dont know what that is please for the love of god google it i dont want homestuck analysis in my fanfiction (tho its probably too late for that oops)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw that someone referred to tord as 'the mount everest of tops' and i laughed out loud for five minutes

Okay, so more time has passed.

Maybe about a month or so.

Tom passed through Christmas season without much complaint, mostly because he couldn’t; the dude got his eyes taken out somewhere in between, so he couldn’t even tell Christmas was around the corner. It’s a little hard to keep track of time when you can’t see it pass you. Edd and Matt made no hesitation to step up and keep Tom on his feet, even if it’s sometimes literally.

Edd had decided to keep Tom in his home for the time being; it wasn’t a good idea to keep him by himself. When Tom came home from that first appointment, he was shaken so badly that Edd had  _ insisted _ on a sleepover. Regardless of Edd’s tactics, Tom didn’t spill the beans on what spooked him so badly. Edd wrote it off as reality finally setting for Tom, and perhaps he didn’t know how to cope with it properly.

Thankfully, the process and operation went without any additional trouble. The cancer didn’t spread to any organs, in which one of the people in charge informed Tom that he was pretty damn lucky for how long he put off the procedure. Tord remained with him during the procedure, and thankfully, no fights occurred. They silently and mutually agreed to not talk about what happened in Tord’s office that day,  _ both times _ , at least not for a while.

Tom was silent through that whole period of time, minus the occasional mumbles to Edd or Matt. Tom refused to speak to Tord, and Tord understood why. Does he think he went too far last time? Who knows. Whatever pent up anger Tom had to begin with increased tenfold, and Tord was going to have to deal with it eventually.

“How are you feeling?” Tord finally asked, once against sitting beside the same hospital bed he had handcuffed Tom to before. Tom laid quietly, not handcuffed, numerous pillows supporting his back as thick bandages covered where his eyes once were.

“...Fffuzzy.” He responded. That morphine did a number on him.

“Wow, that’s the first full word you’ve said to me in a while. Do you know what day it is?”

“Nno.”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“Fuck Christmas.” Well, at least he knew that much. Tord sighed.

“You are going to remain here for a few days for monitoring before you are sent home.” Tord explained, desperately resisting the urge to light a cigar.

“W-What about…” Tom hummed a minute before coming up with the next part of his question. “My eyes…?”

“That will take a few weeks. You’ll just have to be blind for a little bit.”

“My apartment…?”

“Taken care of.”

“Edd’n’Matt??”

“Also taken care of. I told you I’m a man of my word, idiot.”

“No…” Tom protested, shifting in the bed a little bit. “Talk to them…”

“Right…” Tord grimaced and tried to hide his discomfort. “I’m working on it.”

“Liar.”

“No, not a liar. It’s just taking some time. Making sure you don’t  _ die  _ is kind of a priority here.”

“Wow. Character development  _ does _ exist..”

“Oh shut up, Tom.” Tord finally stood up from the chair. “Once you’re released and healthy, we can talk about a long overdue reunion. For now? Sleep.”

Tom didn’t object to that; his head immediately went back down into the pillow.

Tord sighed, and walked out of the room without missing a beat. He couldn’t count how many times he’s had to repeat this speech to Tom. Perhaps someone should reduce how much painkillers that guy is getting; otherwise it’ll only create bigger problems down the road.

Tord let out a short, quiet whistle, and Pau and Pat peeked their heads out from either side of the hallway.

“Anything go wrong while I was preoccupied?” Tord asked, motioning Pau to come with him in Pat’s direction.

“Nope.” Pau replied, giving Pat a nod as they all met up.

“You know, I could barely get a full sentence out of him.” Tord huffed. “Are they just giving him morphine like it is his vodka or something?”

“...I mean, considering how fussy he gets, according to you… yeah, probably.” Not to mention, Pau knew that some of those ‘experts’ in that operating room were a little…  _ sketchy _ .

“Normally I’d send one of you to deal with it, but I think I’ll go myself.” Tord? Showing compassion? It was enough to make Pau and Pat very obviously exchange confused looks. “You two are dismissed for now. Keep your phones on.”

After the two gave their nods, Tord quickly picked up his pace and ran into the nearest elevator. No, Tord wasn’t one for poise when he had something  _ urgent _ to take care of.

Once Tord was out of sight and Pau could hear the motor of the elevator, he immediately dropped to his knees and let out a loud groan.

“ _ Fuck this week. _ ”

“I agree with you.” Pat reassured, squatting down to get to Pau’s level. “At least the hard part’s over.”

“And we get an intermission until the  _ next _ hardest part?”

“Yeah, sounds like it. Why don’t you get up? I can get something started to eat.”

Pau reluctantly stood up, hand immediately going into his pocket for a long-overdue smoke. Pat chuckled, walking with Pau over to the next elevator.

“How long is he here for, Pat?”

“Apparently being sent home tomorrow.” Pat swiped his hand over a sensor, opening a private elevator. “Or at least after the chemicals wear off.”

“Thank god.” Pau gave another sigh before he took a long drag of his cigarette. “I’m going to enjoy not playing babysitter for a while.”

Pat nodded silently, ushering Pau into the elevator and closed the door. “There’s other things to look forward to.”

“Yeah, I know. I got the newsletter.” Pau carelessly flicked some ash onto the floor of the elevator. “He’s expanding the staff.”

“Tremendously.”

“And the facilities getting remodeled?”

“He can afford it. He has just about every political figurehead with  _ money _ wrapped around his robotic finger.”

“They grow up so fast.” Pau leaned against the wall. “Maybe that means we can get a living space that isn’t halfway to the ozone layer.”

“Would be nice.” Pat pressed a few buttons on the menu of the elevator, and it began moving.

\----------

==> You are now Tom, a few days after that brief introduction.

==> You’re finally overcoming the fuzzies inflicted onto you today. Then again, you’ve been in a daze for as long as you can remember. The new year’s barely started, and you’re sitting on Edd’s couch, cup of hot chocolate in hand, listening to the news.

==> Yes, listening.

==> You still can’t believe that Tord wasn’t lying about the procedure. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but suspect it was just an elaborate process of a revenge killing. Imagine your surprise when you woke up on an operating table, unable to see anything.

==> There’s a weird empty feeling, though you know better than to try and play with the bandages anymore than you have. Edd’s threatened to handcuff you a few times over it, and you know that guy will go through with his promise.

==> Thankfully, nothing complicated happened with the procedure. According to the dozen people you’ve had to talk to, you’re cancer free. You feel stronger than you did before, your hair’s growing back, and your brain feels a little less in the clouds lately.

==> Still, you can’t help but be worried. Tord has promised you the  _ extermination _ of your condition; he didn’t say anything about regaining your eyesight. Or maybe he did? You were a little blinded by rage during that whole ordeal, and Tword isn’t doing much to help you remember.

==> Tord assured you that any expenses for your apartment or otherwise would be taken care of, but for how long? There has to be a catch somewhere that you’re not reading up on.

==> More importantly, is Tord going to go through with his end of the deal?

==> Edd taps your shoulder. He must’ve noticed your grimace, because he’s asking you if you’re doing okay. You tell him you’re fine; perhaps a little tired, as you sip from the mug. He smiles at you, and although you can’t see it, you can hear it in his voice. You’d always recognize that smile no matter what state you’re in.

==> He says that your phone’s been going off like crazy over the past few hours. You say  _ really _ ? Edd says yes, saying that there were at least a dozen calls from an unknown number. Thankfully, Tord had accommodated you with a phone that was easier to use with your blindness. But that doesn’t give him an excuse to blow up the phone like a jealous girlfriend.

==> Ugh, whatever. You tell Edd to give you the phone for a moment. He does so, and steps out of his apartment for a moment to fetch Matt for extra company.

==> How convenient! Either Edd has really adapted to social cues, or this is the universe telling that Tord’s calling. A fingerprint unlock and a voice command later, you’re on the line.

==> And because switching points of view is really annoying in terms of story flow, a message to the reader:

_ Italics will be you, Tom,  _ **and bold will be our boy Tord.**

==> And the dial tone drones…

…

…

…

…

**It’s about time you got back to me.**

_ Sorry, I’m sort of being held hostage at Edd’s place right now. There’s not exactly a lot of room here for a private phone call. _

**So I assume you made it back in one piece?**

_ That assumption would be correct. _

**Good.**

_ When are you fulfilling your end of the deal? _

**Don’t worry, I did not forget. I just need a little more time. Besides, there is more to come for you.**

_ More? _

**Your current state is only the beginning. Did you really think I would just leave you blind?**

_ Yeah, I actually did. _

**Well, rid yourself of that thought. It’s unnecessary.**

_ Was that meant to be reassuring? _

**Is it not?**

_ No. In fact, you suck at it. Like you suck at a lot of things. _

**Are you done making jabs at me? I thought you did that plenty the last time we had a coherent conversation.**

==> Ah, right. That.

_ I wanted to ask you about that. _

**I figured.**

_ What did you mean? _

==> A straight minute of silence.

**...If you have to ask me, then it is too soon to explain.**

_ Wow, that’s awfully vague and super unhelpful. _

**All you need to know is that my intentions are not to hurt you.**

_ That’s really hard to believe. _

**Well, start believing.**

_ Maybe if you ask nicely. _

**You are aware of a followup you have next week, correct?**

_ Yeah? _

**After that, we have more to discuss that hopefully does not involve you physically harming me.**

_ Ooh, that’s a tall order, commie. _

**Trust me, I am practicing every ounce of restraint within my body to not choke you out every time I see your stupid face.**

_ I’ve already failed that quest. _

**Oh I know. Be lucky Pau did not shoot you on the spot.**

_ Lucky, huh? _

**Just be at your appointment. I will come fetch you, and we will talk.**

_ Geez, not even asking? _

**Last I checked, you are not in a position to have a choice, let alone deny me.**

_ Oh I see. This is just some giant skit for you, isn’t it? Sunshine lollipop finally grew up to be someone big and scary, so he gets to hold the leash. Are you getting off to this too, you freak? _

**You are not seriously starting an argument right now, are you?**

_ What if I am? You gonna come over here and stop me? _

**Tom. Just come to your appointment.**

==> And before you could taunt him again, Tord hangs up. Weenie.

==> You lower your phone into your hoodie pocket. As usual with Tord, you’re left with more questions than answers. You sigh loudly, and Tword decides to mimic you.

==> Of course Tword wouldn’t disappear upon you becoming blind. That would be stupid; you’re stuck with him for the long haul, whatever the long haul is.

==> You can’t see him, but he’s around you even more than he’s not. You have brief, blurry visions in your dreams, but those aren’t as vivid as some of the other conversations you two had. Tword seemed to ease up on the teasing for a bit; you’re going through quite a bit in every sense of the word. Physically, you’re recovering. Mentally and emotionally? Endless confusion.

==> You hear Edd and Matt arrive not too long after the call ends. Matt greets you with his usual spring in his step, and you reply with a nod and small wave. You take a long-deserved sip of your not-so-hot chocolate. Even lukewarm, it’s delicious. Of course you’re going to drink it.

==> The shift in weight next to you mixed with strong cologne is an indication that Matt has sat himself next to you. His hands go for your face, and you let him toy with you as he eyes up your bandages. He asks you if it still hurts, and you say that it’s less and less painful every day.

_ Tom, are you going to be blind forever? _

==> You give him a dry smile.  _ You’re asking me something like that out of the blue _ ? Well, of course he is; Matt’s curiosity takes no breaks. He’s just so worried about you lately, he can’t help but ask questions. His fingers press into your cheeks, and you reflexively stick your tongue out at him.

==> You also give a shrug. You say you don’t know what the future holds; you’re just glad you’re alive. That’s enough to make Matt smile at you, and that smile establishes itself as he hugs you.

_ God, you are such a liar _ .

==> Tword’s words creep up the back of your neck. You ignore him, using your free hand to return Matt’s hug. Matt finally pulls away, turning to Edd and asking him where  _ his  _ hot chocolate was. Edd tells him to wait a goddamn minute; maybe he’s a little salty that he missed out on the rarest breed of bro hug; a Tom hug.

==> You lean back into the cushion of the couch, making yourself comfortable once again as you sip from the mug. The fresh smell of chocolate fills your noise as Matt thanks Edd for his own cup.

==> The other side of you shifts as Edd fills in the empty spot. His body is so close to yours, you instinctively lean into his body heat. You still get chills from time to time; you might as well prepare for it. Matt follows along with you, leaning onto you to put you in the middle of the ultimate best friends sandwich. Delicious.

==> Despite not seeing him, you can feel Tword staring at you. He’s developed this weird aura lately that always lets you know he’s there. You still don’t really know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, but you can’t do a lot about getting rid of him.

==> What bothers you even more is that he still retains that  _ appearance _ . That old red hoodie, young face devoid of any fatigue, slender figure that’s outlined by his jeans. His clean face still had color to it, and that very detail haunts you. The Tord you’ve come to know now is much colder and callous compared to Tword. Whenever you would question Tword why he still retains that appearance, he doesn’t answer you.

==> He tells you that it’s something you have to figure out on your own.

==> You feel you’ve done enough soulsearching to last a lifetime, but Tword isn’t letting you off the hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some good tomtord  
> \- ultimately - khai dreams  
> \- for the nights i can't remember - hedley  
> \- she said - sundara karma  
> \- see you again - miley cyrus (yes i am serious. 10 year old me jammed to this and 23 year old me will continue to jam)
> 
> and some sad(ish) tomtord  
> \- two time - jack stauber  
> \- i miss having sex but at least i don't wanna die - waterparks  
> \- space - hands like houses  
> \- memories - earlyrise
> 
> ask me bout my tomtord dynamics i have 3 aus and all of them make me suffer


	11. tword establishes the hierarchy of idiocy and puts himself on the top of the totem pole. you ask him if that means he's the biggest idiot since he's on the top and he tells you to shut up

==> And now you’re Matt!

==> You’ve made yourself awfully comfortable in the cuddle pile with your best friends. Edd even made you hot chocolate after you so adorably complained about it. I mean, who could resist your face? Absolutely precious, could never say no to _ever_.

==> However, you have a secret.

==> Well, it’s a minor secret. It’s nothing too catastrophic, but it’s enough to warrant you to hide it from your friends. You are not a man of many secrets that don’t include your skin routine; you’re pretty much an open book to anyone who’s willing to listen. Even to people who would rather not listen.

==> Your eyes wander from the television to someone standing near the doorway.

==> You call him your imaginary friend, partner in crime, he refers to you with the same terms. It’s almost as if _he’s you_.

==> And he is.

==> Not in the sense that Tword is Tom and Twom is Tord; in the sense that this projection is literally, undeniably _you_.

==> It’s so convenient to be constantly presented with a projection of yourself; you don’t even need to carry a mirror! You can’t help but let a sparkle show in your eye, and he responds with pressing a finger to his lips. He knows better than to rile you up while you’re around your friends; you’ve almost slipped up a few times by talking to yourself for just a little too long.

==> Calling this other Matt as such would be too confusing. So you decided on the nickname _Little Tom_.

==> And Little Tom he is.

==> God, this is getting confusing.

==> Little Tom stood by the door because he was waiting for you to come back home. You two often had pretty intense conversations about… well, each other. 90% of the time it’s about you. The other bits are about your friends.

==> However, you noticed that over time Little Tom has had an increasing interest in a _certain_ ex-friend of yours.

==> The name _Tord_ would always strike a little anxiety within you. As much as you try to play off that you’re long recovered from _The End_ , you dream about it from time to time. They’re not good dreams; having to relive the memories of your face, Tom nearly dying, one of your neighbors dying, and Edd…

==> You’ve expressed to Little Tom that the memories make you queasy, but he insists on talking about it. Of course, you can’t say no to that face, so you play along.

==> It’s not even anything particularly harmful, either. Truth be told, you still don’t remember a lot about Tord. Little Tom has put some of the pieces together, but for the most part, you’re absolutely clueless about how you should feel about him. To you, Tord’s just some asshole who butchered your face and nearly killed one of your friends.

==> Little Tom tries to assure you, however, that there’s more to it. You’re a tad reluctant on that point, though.

\--------

==> The much-anticipated check-in is here.

==> You are now Tword, in the living room with the three other idiots.

==> Since Tom’s rocking a mug of hot chocolate, you in turn have the same. Yours might have just the _slightest_ amount of peppermint schnapps in it, but Tom can’t see you, so I guess no one can confirm it.

==> Speaking of people seeing you, you’re in quite a pickle right now.

==> There’s a fourth idiot in the room, and it’s not you. You’re the fifth idiot. This is the idiot hierarchy and you are at the top of the totem pole. Bottom is Tom. This is the only time Tom will be a bottom.

==> Fucking dumbass.

==> Anyways!

==> Idiot #2 is standing by the door, and he seems to have taken notice of your presence. He smiles at you, a bit too excitedly, and gestures to Matt. Ah, he’s with him. Well, you suppose he would be, considering that they look exactly the same. Maybe it’s about time you resign your position at the top of the idiot totem pole.

==> When it seems like Matt’s finally too engrossed by the television to pay attention, the lookalike makes his way over to you.

==> He immediately calls you out and you shush him. You don’t know if your idiot can hear you talking to this idiot, nor do you know if Matt can hear any of this. The guy assures you that you’re both far away enough to not notice.

==> You sigh, and say _by the way, what do you even go by? He says he goes by Little Tom_.

==> You know. You can’t even say you’re surprised at this point.

==> Little Tom explains that he’s seen you hanging around for a pretty long time; definitely before he manifested for whatever purpose he’s around for. You ask him if you told Matt about you, and he says no. He has a little more common sense than actual Matt and knows how to keep a secret. You say _alright_ , you’ll hold him to that.

==> He does have a question, you tell him to shoot. _Why do you look like Tord anyways_?

==> Ah yes, a question that you don’t even clearly answer for Tom, let alone some guy you just met. You shrug and tell him that it’s Tom’s brain, not yours. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t exist outside of Tom’s subconscious. Little Tom says yeah, that’s fair and all. Does Tom love him or something?

==> A small spread of blush appears on your face, and Little Tom grins. _Am I right_?

==> You tell him it’s pretty impolite to assume things like that about strangers. Maybe he should apologize? Little Tom says you’re going a really roundabout way to deny these allegations without actually denying anything. You groan and tell him it’s none of his business. Little Tom says it couldn’t be more his business if he tried. He is Matt, and Tom is one of Matt’s best friends, therefore you are a direct link to Tom and, by extension, Little Tom’s best friend.

==> Yes, Little Tom’s sentence did in fact include that lack of periods. No, you’re not impressed.

==> You start to feel a little fuzzy; it seems like Tom’s actually falling asleep. Little Tom notices this, and tells you he has one more question for you. You tell him to spit it out and to not make you regret it. Oh wow, did the floor and ceiling switch places?

==> He asks you if Tord’s still alive. Your words are slurring, you ask him why he even wants to know that. More importantly, Matt will just leech off that knowledge and everything will be fucked up. You don’t tell him that; you simply tell him you don’t know.

==> And that’s it. Next thing you know, you’re back in that dark room with Tom. The actual Tom this time. You should probably keep Little Tom a secret for now; sure, the same exceptions can be applied to you, but you’re a little more careful with keeping secrets than Tom gives you credit for.

==> Meanwhile, Tom sits across from you. He can see you in his dreams, and for once, he’s happy to see you mostly because that means he can _see_. Yeah, seeing is pretty nice, he says _hell yeah it is_.

\-------

The only sound in the room was the clacking of gloved fingers to a keyboard and a ticking clock. Tom sat quietly on the observation table, mindlessly turning his head around the room. The doctor had asked Tom to stop because the cracking of Tom’s neck was freaking them out, but he didn’t stop.

After a few more minutes of stiff silence, the doctor at the computer began to give Tom a rundown of the results he had. You know, those tests that were explained to him and he barely paid attention to. God, it was so easy for Tom to zone out and those idiots wouldn’t know any different. Besides, Tord would just explain it in layman’s terms later, so it’s fine.

Oh right. Tord.

He remembered that Tord wanted to _talk_ again. Great.

He’ll humor Tord. He even told Tword he’ll be on his best behavior this time, or at the very least _tolerable_ behavior. Not getting physical and breaking Tord’s nose again behavior. You know, the good kind.

Tom brought himself back to reality as the doctor asked him if he had any questions. Tom said no, and the doctor told him that _Red Leader_ will be with him soon. They quickly exited, the door closing with a loud click and beep. Once they were gone, Tom sighed loudly.

“Red Leader, huh?” Tword remarked curiously, standing next to the table Tom was sitting on. “What do you think that is about?”

Tom shrugged. “Some stupid nickname for his stupid army, probably. God, he thinks he’s such a big shot.”

“He might be. You have heard about what’s been going on around here lately.”

“Ambitious bastard with a dream, I’ll give him that much.” Tom huffed, swinging his legs as he sat on the table. “Just wish he’d hurry up and get here. I wanna get whatever ‘talk’ he has in mind over with.”

“I think it would do you some good if you would talk to him like he is a person and not like he is an animal.”

“Since when have you gotten so insightful?” Tom turned to look at Tword, except he was facing the wrong way. Tword suppressed a chuckle. “You know, you’ve been pushing me to this guy for _how long_ now? What gives?”

“If I tell you that,” Tword started, gently turning Tom’s head toward him. “Then it is no fun. Giving you all of the answers would be boring.”

“So this is a game to you.”

“You make it sound like I am my own person with my own feelings and opinions. How many times have we gone over this now?”

“I know, I know. I got it. I don’t need the explanation again.”

“Then just be quiet for now. He will be here soon.”

And silence, but only for a few more minutes.

The door opened once again, the smell of burning cigar wafting to Tom’s nose as Tord entered the room.

“Commie.” Tom spat.

“Jehovah.” Tord answered, with not as much of a punch as Tom. “Are you going to behave this time?”

“I will be an absolute fucking angel if it means that this ends faster.”

“Good enough. Take my hand.” Tord held out his hand when he got closer to Tom, gently poking his shoulder to get Tom’s attention. He sighed when he could see the expression of reluctance on his face. “Tom, just take my hand. I am not going to fling you out of a window. Unless you would like to navigate this facility blindly? I doubt you have memorized the layout after only being here a few times.”

Tom huffed and took the bastard’s hand. It was gloved, but he could tell it was the prosthetic hand by how firm the grip was. Once that was settled, Tord gently guided Tom off the table and out of the room. Tword followed quietly, Twom not far behind. Thankfully, Tword didn’t have to deal with another heart attack; he didn’t _see_ Twom like he saw Little Tom. God only knows what Tword would do if he found out that there was another brain ghost in this group of idiots.

Tord and Tom walked through the endless hallways. Tom’s pace was a bit slower than Tord’s due to his uncertainty in his steps, but Tord was being patient today. He looked back at Tom to make sure he wasn’t struggling; it would be a little inconvenient if he tripped and fell on top of him. Would definitely open up another opportunity for more injury, and Tord wasn’t in the mood to break out another first aid kit.

The silence was awkward. Tom felt no need to break it, but Tord was getting uncomfortable.

“Tom.” He finally broke it.

“What do you want?”

“What do you want to drink this time?”

Oh, an actually harmless question. “...What do you have?”

“Anything you want.” Tord answered casually, gently dragging Tom along a turn. “We had coffee last time you were here because I picked it out. I suppose it is your turn to pick.”

Turns would imply that this would be a recurring thing. Tom hated that thought, but being able to pick out the beverage… was very appealing to his senses. “Alcohol.”

“Something a little less vague?”

“Smirnoff.”

“Alright.”

Tom tilted his head in confusion. “No comment about me being a useless alcoholic?”

“Normally I would, but I figured I should return the courtesy of being on my best behavior. Unless you _want_ me to exploit and jest about your alcoholism.”

“No thanks. I have my brain for that. Do you even have Smirnoff?”

“I should have a bottle.” Tord made another turn, finally coming to an elevator. “If not, it will be pretty easy to get one.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There is not a catch.”

“With you, there’s _always_ a catch.”

“Not this time. I really do not have the energy to harass you and your being right now.”

“Rough day, Red Leader?” Tom teased him, squeezing the metal hand. 

“Yes, actually. Thanks for your concern. So adorable.” The sarcasm in Tord’s voice was dripping as he clicked the elevator open. “Watch your step.”

Once Tom finally stepped in, the door closed and the motor began running them upwards.

“Are those two gonna be around?”

“Pau and Pat? They are on call. I really do not see you as a threat in your current state.”

Tom was about to ask if that was a challenge, but he just kept his mouth shut.

 _Ding_.

“This isn’t your office.” Tom pointed out as Tord led him out of the elevator.

“Good observation for a blind man. What gave it away?”

“It doesn’t reek of cigars here. It’s more… sweet?”

“Peaches.” Tord led him to a small loveseat that shared a coffee table with another identical loveseat. “Just… give me a moment to gather my bearings. Shot glass or tall glass?”

“Shots.”

Tord silently walked off, fetching the requested drink and shot glasses. Tom relaxed, leaning back into the seat he was led to. It was leather and smelled almost brand new. He sunk into it, almost letting out a hum of comfort as he loosened his tense body. Tword stood next to the sitting Tom.

“He has a nice place.” Tword let his eyes wander towards a particularly big window. “Looks pretty high up too.”

Tom scoffed quietly. _Rich bastard_.

A few minutes later, Tord came back with what he was looking for. His footsteps were lighter; he had taken off his coat and boots now that he was away from work. He sat on the loveseat across from Tom, setting an unopened bottle of Smirnoff and two shot glasses on the table.

“Thanks.” Tom muttered, turning his head toward the noise of glass scratching the wooden table.

“Of course.” Tord picked the bottle back up to open it. The sound of the cap popping was enough to bring a hint of a smile on Tom’s face.

“You think you can take a shot on your own?” Tord asked as he filled the two glasses.

“I’m blind, not a baby. I can drink just fine.”

“If you are sure.” Tord handed Tom a shot. His hand fumbled to grab it, but he got it.

Tord picked up his own glass, saying a quiet countdown before _bottom’s up_.

In Tom’s case, it was splashing the bottom all over his damn face. Despite the burn in Tord’s throat, he laughed out loud pretty obnoxiously at Tom’s blunder.

“Shut the fuck up!” Tom’s anger immediately showed, and through his giggles, Tord quickly got up to get him a towel.

“Calm down, Tom. O-Oh wow, I figured you might spill some, but I did not think you would do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, just refill the glass.” Tom exchanged his empty glass for the towel Tord brought back. God, what a nightmare.

“Let me help you this time.” Tord offered, pushing the towel away from Tom’s face as he leaned forward. “I am going to tip the glass into your mouth.”

“Fine, just stop making it so sensual and feed me the shot already.”

Tord complied, Tom humming as the liquid entered his lips and slid down his throat. The familiar burn soothed him, and he leaned back into the seat once the glass was empty.

“Was that so hard?” Tord asked him, placing the glass down.

“Listen, for all I know, you could’ve filled that glass with your piss and fed it to me.”

“Hmm. Not a bad idea for next time, but I am actually trying to be nice.”

“Just give me another shot.”

Tord complied and repeated the motion from earlier. He wasn’t going to question Tom’s intense need for alcohol; he was probably going through withdrawal like no one’s business. Tord took another shot after he fed Tom his third. He hoped that Tom wouldn’t urge him to overdo it; the only thing worse than a sober, blind Tom is a drunk, blind Tom.


	12. whats this? you think pau is the dumb one? you think pau is big dumb idiot? hoo boy do i have news for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys  
> so just so you all i know i love you and i love your comments even if i dont reply  
> i replied to one (1) out of pure excitement of 'omg i got a comment' and now im too nervous to reply to more of them  
> but i will eventually  
> but just know that i see you. i see all of you  
> and i love you  
> and i appreciate you reading this  
> bc truth be told i did not think that this fanfic would be well-received but im glad to know it is!  
> i cant wait to see this through to the end with all of you!!! thank you!!!

==> You are now Tord, and it’s been a few hours.

==> What started off as periods of awkward silence in which you’d feed Tom shots has turned into endless minutes of conversation and sharing stories. Once the vodka loosened Tom up, he was an open book. Now you’re both sitting across from each other, exchanging words that don’t all contain hate. Tom can’t see it, but you’re smiling brighter than you have in years.

==> He told you more in-depth stories of the adventures between Tom and the others, and you shared stories of exploits of your army. You told him about the various political hoops you’ve jumped through, the narrowly avoided assination attempts, and many other here-and-there tales. Tom would mumble to himself while he spoke, but he’s half-listening, and that’s good enough for you.

==> You feed him his sixth shot, and he hiccups in your face before sipping and swallowing the vodka. A corner of your mouth turns up in amusement as he quietly excuses himself as he leans back into the chair.

==> He asks you what time it is. You don’t know off the top of your head, but it’s dark out. Tom shrugs; he’s not very concerned with getting home, apparently. Perhaps Edd and Matt expect Tom to be staying overnight? Well, considering how he is now, perhaps that’s plausible.

==> Tom interrupts your train of thought. He asks you if you wanna hear a secret. Your eyebrow raises in amusement; _what kind of secret_? Tom uses his fingers to usher you closer. He wants to whisper it to you.

==> So you lean forward. He says closer.

==> You push aside the bottle and press your hands onto the table. He says closer.

==> The amount that you’re leaning towards Tom is compromising your balance, but your ear is just barely ghosting Tom’s mouth. He then says that he doesn’t even know how close you are; he’s blind, idiot. You could’ve stayed put and nothing would have changed.

==> You tell him to cut the nonsense and tell you this secret he’s gushing about. He chuckles, and spills it in the form of a soft whisper to your ear.

_Edd says he misses you._

==> Tom leans back to let out another laugh as you’re frozen in place. It wasn’t what you were expecting, and now you don’t really know what to do with this information. For all you know, Tom could be telling a cruel lie. Then again, you’ve learned most of Tom’s intimate secrets through his drunken rampages in the past, so perhaps this statement holds some truth to it.

==> Finally, you lean back into your seat. You ask Tom what he means by what he said; Tom says he _means_ what you think it means. Edd misses you, or at least missed you at that moment. You ask if you come up in conversation a lot; for a quick moment, you can see Tom’s body language quickly bristle up to discomfort before he disregards it.

_Sometimes._

==> Thank god he can’t see your face. You’re smiling, albeit the corners of your mouth turning upwards in such a way makes you feel a little bittersweet.

==> This doesn’t directly translate to Matt and Edd not hating your guts, but it’s a start.

==> Before you can interpret this further, Tom informs you that he has to throw up. _For fuck’s sake_.

==> Thanks to your experience with drunk Tom, you’ve kept a bucket by your chair. You quickly hand it to him and pull the shot glasses away. After a few seconds of heaving, he proceeds to fill the bucket. Gross. There’s a culture out there somehow that thinks this behavior is entirely despicable to practice willy-nilly, but we’re not in that culture.

==> You get up to place the empty glasses onto the countertop of a small kitchenette you have, and come back for the bottle to put it away. You then inform Tom that he’s probably had enough to drink.

==> Tom spits in your direction and misses, because he’s still facing the table and never actually bothered to follow your voice. He tells you to fuck off. You tell him he’s in _your_ residence. He tells you he doesn’t care. You groan; you _knew_ this was a bad idea.

==> Unfortunately, you’ve agreed to only call Pau and Pat in case of an emergency, and bringing home your worst enemy who you may or may not have _extremely suppressed feelings for_ is not really an emergency, cancer patient or not.

==> You give Tom a choice; he can sleep in your bed, or out here on the bigger couch. He lifts his head from the bucket and asks if you’re sleeping in the bed if he chooses the bed. You say of course not, you fucking idiot. _Are you done throwing up now_? Tom looks down at the bucket and back up again as if that really makes a difference, and says yes, he’s good.

==> You take the bucket from him, turning your nose away and kicking a button at the panel near the giant window in your place. And then you accidentally drop the bucket out of the window. You know, like the clutz you are. You don’t even know how high up you are. Hopefully no one’s hit by it!

==> Tom asks you what that noise was, and you tell him it was nothing. You repeat the question; _bed or couch_?

==> Tom leans back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he thinks. He asks you for a breath mint, and you produce one from your pocket. Tom opens his mouth and says _ahhh_.

==> Twom is hysterically laughing across the room right now. You’re praying to whatever god’s above you to stop punishing you.

==> In one swift motion, you pop the mint out of the wrapper and put it in his mouth. Tom closes his mouth and sucks on the mint, giving the quiet comment _minty_ before letting himself sink further into the loveseat. You ask him the question again, and he finally says the bed.

==> Great! Time to pick him up then.

==> Tom says _what? You’re not carrying me, commie_.

==> You inform Tom that he doesn’t really have much of a choice considering he’s blind and extremely intoxicated. Before he can protest, you’re already picking him up in the fashion you did before; bridal style, one hand under the knees and one on the back.

==> However, it strikes you that Tom’s… lighter than last time. It hasn’t been that long since this whole ordeal started. The fact that he’s been losing sleep and his appetite over this… huh. Almost puts a pit in your stomach. You look down at his zoned out, drooling face. You almost feel a hint of compassion.

==> Twom snakes up next to you. Before he can say anything, you tell him to save it.

==> Tom perks up and asks who you’re talking to. You tell him no one, and begin to walk to your bedroom.

==> You kick the door open as Tom rambles on incoherently about you _tying him up and blindfolding him like in his hentais_. Jesus Christ, you are not addicted to hentai. You’ve cut back significantly over the years; you’re now only up to 19 hours a day.

==> But instead of telling him that, you just throw his body onto the bed… what? It’s soft. He’s not gonna die from it.

==> Tom calls you an asshole anyways, and you tell him to deal with it. Before you can turn around to leave, Tom’s already complaining again. _Commie, I’m f-f-fucking cold. Blanket_?

==> You tell him he’s literally laying on a duvet. Just get under it? Tom says that’s too much work, _plus he’s blind, remember_?

==> This time, you don’t attempt to hide your groan of displeasure. You tell him to move, and you begin to pull down the corner of the blanket. Before you can usher him underneath it, you feel two trembling hands grab you and pull you onto the bed while your guard’s down.

==> Tom must’ve felt your weight shift the bed, because the fact that he’s even able to find you with his hands is impressive in itself.

==> After successfully managing to pull you next to him, he wastes no time wrapping his arms and legs around you like some sloppy drunk spidermonkey. For someone who’s lighter than you remember, his grip’s a little worrying.

==> You tell Tom to cut the shit and let you go. He says no way and proceeds to press his head into the crook of your neck. _I’m freezing, and you’re here like a walking body heater and not sharing_? You ask him if he’s finally lost his mind, and he shrugs and says _I dunno, probably_.

==> Well, if you weren’t in a pickle before, you sure are now!

==> Twom manages to pause his laughter to assure you that this is definitely happening. From the looks of it, Tom’s finally starting to get drowsy. He’s had a long day, after all. You probably shouldn’t try to break this moment of peace; despite how annoyed you are right now, Tom is being surprisingly tolerable.

==> You sigh. Alright, you’ll bite; you’ll be Tom’s cuddle buddy tonight. You don’t say this out loud, for Tom won’t listen; he’s already asleep.

==> You look down to check on him. His face is calm, tiny breaths coming from parted lips that thankfully smell minty rather than like vomit. His grip on you isn’t as tight as it was at first, but the intensity is still there. He adjusts, making sure he’s pressing directly onto you.

==> Twom is smirking. You, very quietly, tell him _no_.

==> _No, why not? I didn’t even say anything_.

==> You tell him that if he gives you a boner, you’re going to kill him and then yourself.

==> Twom’s smirk only gets wider. _Wasn’t what I was thinking of, but that’s a really good idea_.

==> I swear to god---

==> Tom’s stirring makes you stop in your threat. Thank god he’s not waking up; just a very active sleeper, apparently.

==> Alright. You tell Twom to shut up; you’re going to sleep. Twom tells you _good luck, freak; you’re gonna need it_.

\----------------

So Pat didn’t hear a single peep out of Tord last night, which to him, is concerning. Every time Tord and Tom are alone, something happens no matter where on the scale of calamity it lands. The fact that Pat and Pau didn’t hear anything couldn’t mean anything good.

Pat had volunteered to go this time; Pau’s had enough of Tord’s bullshit for a lifetime. Besides, that guy needs his sleep a little more than he does.

He’s not even in uniform; Pat crawled out of bed and put together something resembling a casual outfit before grabbing a pistol to strap to his leg and a baton. Yes, a baton; he liked to idly spin it while he’s in the elevator and sometimes hits Pau with it ‘to test his abilities’. Yeah, baton abilities. Totally a valid cause.

The motor of the elevator woke Pat up only a little; he was hoping that nothing actually happened and he could go and start his day. He knew Tord and Tom were up in Tord’s suite; Tord at least told him that much. Normally Tord would tell them when Tom was leaving, but considering the circumstances… no, Tord wouldn’t be careless enough to not let Pau and Pat know of Tom’s departure. That’s not his style.

The ding of the elevator was followed by the doors opening. Pat stepped out, observing the disheveled loveseats, the shoes left at the door, and… the mysterious stain splattered on the window.

Yeah. He’s not going to ask about that one. Not blood? Not his problem.

Other than that, the main room was in order. He peeked in one of the many closets around; no bodies were stuffed in there. Checking the bathroom was fruitless as well, for that was also empty. Pat glanced at the kitchenette; two shot glasses sat on the counter, a half empty bottle of Smirnoff sat in an open cabinet.

 _Oh no_.

Pat, _quietly_ , sprung into action and went for Tord’s bedroom. If they weren’t in there, then Pat had full justification to consider this an emergency. The future supreme leader of the world and some other guy don’t just _disappear_ without a trace, at least not normally. The door was open, and Pat was not prepared for the sight waiting for him.

Tom and Tord. In Tord’s bed. Not wearing pants (Listen, it got _hot_ overnight, and Tom kept waking up in drunken fits to bitch about it, so naturally Tord had to strip them down), tangled in each other’s arms and legs with the lights off. Pat’s panicked eyes met with Tord’s, who seemed to have just woken up.

He mouthed a quiet _help me_ as his good eye averted to the sleeping Tom. Pat’s eyes were more affixed onto Tord’s _very obvious morning wood_.

No, no they’re not. Pat looked back up at Tord, who was staring bullets into him. Right.

Pat moved slowly to Tord’s side, gently pulling Tom’s limbs from him so Tord could stand up. Pat looked away uncomfortably, picking up a discarded pair of pants and gingerly handing them to Tord.

“Listen.” Tord started at a low whisper, using the pants to cover his erection instead of putting them on like a normal human being. “It is not what it looks like, I swear.”

“I don’t--- I don’t care. That’s not my concern.” Pat didn’t want to know any gorey details; picking Tord… _Tori_ up from her rendezvous with Tom that one night was enough for him. “What happened that led up to this?”

“We talked. We drank. Tom drank a little too much. Tom threw up and clearly I could not take him home, so I let him stay over. He stayed in my bed, but pulled me in and would not let me go. So I gave up.”

Pat finally turned to look at Tord. He wasn’t impressed. “You’re not being serious.”

“...As serious as a heart attack?” Tord shrugged with a sheepish smile. Pat sighed, but not too loudly.

As if on cue, Tom started to stir. His disregarded limbs moved to stretch out his body, a yawn leaving his mouth. Tord and Pat looked at each other in a panic; Tom was waking up, so they had to act fast. Tord stepped back out of Tom’s view, ready to run out of the door. Tom began to sit up, not quite processing his surroundings yet.

Before he could say anything, Pat pulled out the baton and smacked Tom right on the back of his head.

Tom yelped before immediately plummeting back down to the bed. He didn’t move; he just laid there, face pressed against the mattress as a bit of blood began to stain the sheets.

In an instant, Tord was up to Pat, yanking him by the collar of his shirt. “Are you _fucking crazy_???? What the fuck did you do that for???”

“I panicked, okay!!” Pat retorted and tossed the baton aside. “He’s asleep now, isn’t he??”

“That’s not the point!” Tord pushed Pat away, cautiously approaching Tom and kneeling on the bed next to him. A finger pressed into his neck, and thankfully he had a pulse. Tord gave a sigh of relief.

“See? He’s alive.” Pat stepped beside him. “Why do you even care?”

Tord glared at him, the fury in his eye enough to make Pat shut up. “Fix. This. Now.”

Pat gave a nervous smile. “Calling Pau, right now. Be right back.”

\--------

==> You are now Tom, just waking up and extremely dizzy.

==> Ah, the feeling of a hangover. You’re really hoping you didn’t do something stupid; not like you’d remember.

==> One of your hands goes to the back of your head and there’s a bandage there. Great, you probably did something dumb _and_ you’re injured.

 _You’re awake_.

==> A calm voice greets you. For a moment, you’re relieved, until that voice tells you that it’s just Pat.

==> Naturally, you don’t hide your disgust. Pat tells you to relax; at least you’re alive.

==> You ask Pat what the hell happened. Unfortunately, he can’t tell you much; he wasn’t there for whatever you and Tord were doing. Apparently you got so drunk and you hit your head enough to pass out. You scoff; of course it was something stupid like that.

==> Pat is visibly sweating, but you don’t see it. _Yeah, real stupid_.

==> You confirm with Pat that Tord wasn’t the cause of your injury. If anything, Tord is the cause of you drinking way too much. Apparently he had to hand-feed you shots because you couldn’t actually drink the shots without getting it all over you. That made you snort, and Pat added that you even had to sleep in his bed because you were too shitfaced.

==> You ask _with Tord_? Pat lied and said he didn’t know.

==> He asks you if you’re hungry, and you say you could eat. Your headache probably isn’t going away unless you get some actual food inside of you. Pat gets up and tells you that a nurse will be in to feed you in a bit.

==> Before he’s able to walk out, you ask him when you’ll be able to leave. Pat answers quickly, saying you’ll be able to leave after you eat. He exits through the door, shutting it behind him.

==> You groan. Loudly.

==> You ask Tword how much of a fool you made out of yourself last night. Tword averts his eyes, leaning against the wall next to the bed. Do you really wanna know? Yes, unfortunately, you do. Tword stays silent for a moment.

==> He explains that you got drunk off your mind. He said you had 5 or 6 shots; he lost count. You ask if Tord tried anything, and he says quite the contrary; you were in fact being the asshole out of the two of you. You also threw up in a bucket, in which Tord proceeded to drop out a window after you were done.

==> Yeah, that scans.

==> Tword says apparently you told Tord ‘a secret’. You say _please don’t tell me I confessed my undying love to him_ , which for the record _you totally don’t have_. Tword says no, it was about Edd. You told Tord that Edd missed him. Ah, well not as bad as you’re thinking but still not great.

==> Tword says it might influence Tord’s decision to finally speak to those two again. For the good? Tword can’t say. You ask if anything else happened. Seeing as that Tord swore Pat to secrecy, Tword figures he should follow suit, and tells you that nothing else happened that’s worth mentioning.

==> You tell Tword that you still feel like an idiot after all that. Tword says rightfully so.

==> Tword asks you what you’re going to do once you go back home. You shrug; what else are you really supposed to do now? It’s just a waiting game of figuring out what Tord’s going to do next with you. Perhaps he’ll finally come around to seek Edd and Matt out, but beyond that, you really have no predictions.

==> You present Tword with the same question, and he’s on the same boat as you. It wouldn’t be bad if all 4 of you could get together like old times. You twiddle your fingers together; maybe it wouldn’t be too terrible. After all, maybe it’ll put Edd and Matt’s minds at ease about you, if only for a little bit.

==> Did you actually just _think_ that?

==> Tword says _yes, you did_.

==> _Lame_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edd  
> help me let go - danny gonzalez  
> city of angels - 24kgoldn  
> aries - gorillaz
> 
> matt  
> my type - saint motel  
> pretty girl rock - keri hilson (don't @ me)  
> only human - jonas brothers
> 
> tom  
> anxiety - blackbear  
> shark in the water- vv brown  
> supalonely - benee
> 
> tord  
> love song - sara bareilles  
> oh no! - marina and the diamonds  
> handlebars - flobot
> 
> some of these are super out of left field but also music good
> 
> and im SORRY i am just knocking these chapters out i work full time and do college so when my brainworm wakes up on my days off it Wakes Up you feel me  
> but like i said at the beginning thank you so much for reading!!!!!


	13. i give you a crumb of my slowburn sandwich. immediately i pull the rug out from under you, your single crumb falling to the floor. the 5 second rule passes. the gremlins that live in the floor take your crumb. you are back to square one.

==> Hello.

==> We’ll be doing something different today. You’ll see. You’ll all see.

==> You are now Matt, a few months into the past, before all of this drama began bubbling up.

==> Tom had long gone to bed and left the Discord call, but you and Edd remained, keeping the conversation up as the night continued. Edd is multitasking; you assume he’s drawing seeing as that most of his responses are from him looking away from his camera and to his screen on his left.

==> God, what a dork. You love him.

==> And you’re not afraid to admit that either. You _love_ Edd. Dare you say you love him and Tom the most in the whole wide world. Even more than yourself? Well, let’s not get crazy here. Point is, you love Edd and Tom a lot, but we’re talking about Edd here. You really, really love Edd. You tell him this all the time, and he does reciprocate it with a smile and a _love you too_ when you express it.

==> However, it’s come to your attention that Edd is oblivious. Rather, it came to Little Tom’s attention and he’s informed you of such, and now you’re aware of it. And _boy_ , is it bad.

==> You can’t count the number of times that you’ve taken Edd to dinner, treated him like the king of the world, only for him to totally _bro you out_. You ask him to dinner, he says yes. You both eat dinner. You say _hey, we should get dinner again_! Edd says _no thanks, I just ate_.

==> Un-fucking-believable.

==> You resist the urge to grab that guy by the shoulders and knock some sense into him. Sure, you’re an airhead too, but you can at least pick up on when people are hitting on you. You don’t even know if Edd’s straight or not; worse case scenario he only likes girls, so you ask him out officially, he turns you down, and you move on. It’s not that big of a deal, right?

==> God, if only Tom and Tord were as proactive as you, Matt.

==> Edd pipes up and asks you if you’re tired. You say yeah, a little. You repeat the question to Edd, who only shrugs. He’s been downing cola this whole time; you’re surprised he hasn’t shot out of his chair like a firework and bounced on the walls yet. He says that you should probably go to sleep soon, and you say you won’t go to sleep unless he does.

==> Silence.

==> _So if I stay up all night, you’ll be up with me_? You say yes. You’ll stay up as long as it takes. Edd chuckles at you and tells you you’re being silly; he’s planning on hopping off for the night anyways, and says you should too. You nod, tell him good night, and end the call.

==> After that, you sigh.

==> Little Tom asks you why you don’t just tell that idiot already. You tell him it’s not that simple; every attempt at subtlety is completely overlooked, and you’re left with more questions than answers. Little Tom suggests you should be direct, and you are honestly the worst person at being direct and to the point. Little Tom shrugs; _what’s the worst that could happen_?

==> Ugh, if only you could text Tom right now. If he weren’t asleep, you would be blowing up his phone right about now. Then he’d be banging on the wall telling you to _shut the hell up and go to sleep, don’t you have a face mask to put on_?

==> Yes, you do. And you’re doing that now. It’s a nice peel-off charcoal mask that will leave you refreshed right before bed. Adorably enough, Little Tom has taken to mimicking your nightly and daily routines. You think he’s such a good friend, even if he’s technically you.

==> Thankfully, he’s been more focused on your endeavors with Edd than talking about Tord. Thank god, because Tord is the last guy you wanna talk about right now. Talking about Edd is so much easier; I mean, you love Edd. You wanna hug him and squeeze him and give him everything he’s ever wanted. You want him to confide in you and you wanna anchor whatever troubles he’s going through. And you know he’ll want to do the same for you.

==> Woooow, you’ve got it real bad.

==> Any more gushing in your brain is going to result in your sweating so much that the mask becomes ineffective. You can’t have that. Little Tom won’t let you have that either.

==> You turn to look in the mirror in your bathroom. Well, one of them; you’ve got a couple in there, but the one you’re looking into with the lavender frame surrounding it happens to be your favorite. Why? _Because Edd gave it to you_.

==> God damn it, gay thoughts. Man, this is hard.

\--------

==> And now you’re present-day Matt, and not much has changed. A little bit of development is good for the typical ship. More will come later, for anyone caring to read this far will understand that your yearning is much, much deeper.

==> You and Edd were informed that Tom stayed overnight for his appointment due to some… stuff, you guess? And he’ll be ready to be picked up later. You didn’t really _read_ the texts; Edd read them to you and you zoned out on the non-interesting parts. All you were concerned about was Tom’s wellbeing overall, and that’s enough for you.

==> For now you and Edd are chilling on the couch in your apartment. Little Tom is idling behind the couch, looking over the two of you and breathing down your neck about Edd. The television drones on some commercials about propaganda or whatever, but you’re not really paying attention to that right now.

==> You keep stealing glances at Edd. One moment he seems fine and the next you can see just the tiniest hint of sadness in his eyes. It vanishes as quickly as you can avert your eyes; being caught staring would be a little embarrassing.

==> Finally, he catches you.

==> Edd asks you if you have something on your mind. You say well, not really, other than you’re worried about Tom. Edd agrees; dare he say he’s been losing sleep over it, and not because they’ve been sharing a bed. You can agree with that; it’s a little unsettling around here lately, and you find yourself a little more on your toes when Tom’s gone for an extended period of time.

==> Edd leans on you, trapping your right arm against the couch. As always, he’s warm; the smell of cola wafts from his overworn hoodie, and his head rolls to look up at you. He smiles, but you can tell it’s a little sadder this time. Habitually, your arm pulls out of the trap and moves around him to complete the link. His nose scrunches at your cologne (because Jesus Christ man you wear _waaaaay_ too much sometimes), but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

==> Edd asks you if you’re doing okay. This isn’t the typical _hey, how are you doing?_ type of gesture from Edd. It’s a genuine, heartfelt concern of your well-being.

==> You answer honestly and tell him you’re worried about a lot of things lately. Things that you don’t normally find yourself too much concerned with. Little things? Maybe not necessarily _insignificant_ things, but just stuff you never really thought of. Edd nods in understanding, his head rubbing into your body with the motion. He says he can agree; things have gotten crazy lately.

==> You’re about to open your mouth to speak again, but Edd does that for you. His hands move your face, the grip is a little lopsided due to the angel he’s laying on you. His thumbs move to your mouth, gently spreading your lips apart to reveal your teeth. You don’t move a muscle.

==> _Wow, sometimes I forget you have those_! He’s referring to your pearly set of fangs you gained some time ago. Ah, _memories_. Bloodthirsty memories.

==> You say _yeah_ , sometimes you forget about that. They’re very helpful for chewing food. You’ve also acquired a taste for _extremely rare steak_ as a result. Edd asks you if it’s affected your selfie-taking game. You call him silly; _nothing as small as this would affect my selfie skills! If anything, they’re enhanced! People think it’s a filter! I’m so cool, Edd_!

==> Edd laughs out loud, the sound of it relieving any of the remaining tension in the room. You can’t help but join him in laughing at yourself.

==> Shit. That’s your heart racing, isn’t it? Little Tom nods from the corner of your eye; yeah, it is. You really hope Edd can’t feel that.

==> Once the laughter dies down, Edd sits back up, but turns to face you. His eyes are back to their neutral beaming, but he definitely seems a little more upbeat than he was a few minutes ago. You can’t help but smile at him.

==> He tells you it’s getting late. You suppose it is. He asks you, jokingly, if you need a walk back to your place; he wants to be a _gentleman_. You say if anyone’s going to be the gentleman here, it’s you. He says _oh? You gonna walk yourself home, sir_? You say _no, you’re going to walk Edd back to your ho_ \---

==> Oooh. The implications of that are a bit…

==> Edd says _what_? You’re gonna take me home? You didn’t even take me to dinner!

==> You chuckle nervously. Good job, idiot. Thankfully he didn’t read too much into that, so your sanity can live another, not-very-peaceful day.

==> Still, Edd has a point, and Little Tom reminds you of such; it’s late, and it’s skin care routine time. You wouldn’t miss that for the world. You exchange brief goodbyes, Edd flashing you one last smile before you step out the door.

==> You take a few steps down the hall. Once you’re out of sight of Edd’s peephole, you slump on the nearest wall and sigh rather dramatically.

==> Little Tom stands beside you. He assures you that the whole display was pretty adorable. You just tell him to hush. You need to process the repressed amount of raw, sexual tension you just had to endure. Little Tom says _what sexual tension_? As far as he’s concerned, Edd is completely clueless. Unfortunately and begrudgingly, you agree.

==> After a few minutes of moping, you finally bring yourself back to standing up straight. Now that the melodrama has played itself out, you suppose it’s about time you head back to your place. Which is about 10 or so steps away.

==> Little Tom steps in front of you before you can even move.

==> He says _hey, we shouldn’t go back just yet_. You ask him why. Little Tom is reluctant to give you a straight answer; he just tells you it’s a bad idea, and that you two should go elsewhere. It’s late enough for bed, but not for adventuring. Perhaps you could go out somewhere. You tell him it’s known to be dangerous to go out at night lately. Little Tom hums, trying to come up with another suggestion.

==> Okay, fuck it. He just insists that you put off going home a _little longer_.

==> You’re understandably confused. He was just suggesting that you head back. Little Tom stays quiet for a moment, and just insists _again_ that you two leave the area. You’re not backing down from this too easily, even with him attempting to push you in the other direction. Brain ghosts only have so much power; unfortunately for Little Tom, you’re able to walk past him to your front door.

==> Which… is… unlocked. Alright.

==> This totally isn’t going to blow up in your face, is it?

==> Little Tom says no, it’s not that. You literally _always_ leave your door unlocked. You ask him what the hell the problem is, then. He sighs; _just go inside, lock the door, and look through your peephole_.

==> _Ohhh, that’s what it’s called! I’ve always liked to call it the little baby window. Maybe one day it’ll grow up to a bi_ \---

==> Little Tom now returns the urgency of you to _be quiet_ , and you do what he tells you to.

==> Once you’re safely inside, you press your face against the door to keep your eye on the peephole. A few minutes of _fucking nothing_ happens, and you turn back to Little Tom. He puts a finger to his lips to hush you, and tells you to wait a few more minutes.

==> Some heavy footsteps fill the hallway.

==> A minute passes, a figure is seen in the peripheral of the peephole. You press more intensely into the door, and you can barely make out a figure that you vaguely recognize. It seems like he’s carrying something?

==> Upon closer inspection, you realize that’s Tom.

==> Little Tom questions you, asking if you remember Edd saying that you two would pick Tom up. You say _yeah_ , you do. Both of you exchange looks as the figure passes by your door. You imagine that he’s going to Edd’s place. You debate opening the door to peek a little more, but Little Tom stops you; probably not the best idea right now. Situation’s a little too delicate.

==> Before either of you can make another comment, your vision goes black.

==> No, you didn’t pass out. Someone’s covering the peephole.

==> You resist the immediate reflex to exclaim out loud and look to Little Tom for guidance. You can hear some muffled voices, but none of it sounds familiar… or even in English, for that matter. You try to listen in, but it almost feels like there’s not only something covering the _peephole_ , but also… blocking the door.

==> Dare you say it’s a little worrying. Little Tom agrees.

==> Well, what do you do now?

==> Little Tom sighs, telling you to let bygones be bygones. It’s probably whoever’s taking care of your friend and it’s not a big deal. Perhaps one of the people around is blocking the door because that’s just where they happen to be standing. You shrug; perhaps that’s the case.

==> You decide to leave it; you can always ask Edd in the morning, if he’s aware of what happened. Maybe he is. Maybe he _planned_ this?

==> Questions buzz in your mind as you walk away from the door, readying yourself for bed.

==> Little Tom remains.

==> Of course he knows what’s actually going on, or who’s standing out there, or who was _coming_ in the first place. Why would he tell you that? It’d give you a lot more questions than answers, and frankly you both have had enough mental stress for a lifetime supply.

==> Little Tom sighs quietly, following behind you as you didn’t notice him not following you in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was on tumblr, i follow this eddsworld artist and they draw some real nice eddmatt,,,, they mentioned how they dont see a lot of slowburn eddmatt so here i am to fulfill that need, 13 chapters into a tomtord fic. Dont even know if they read this but their artwork inspired me and here we are  
> granted slowburn eddmatt will not be the centerpiece of this fic, but i think it's a cute little addition. developing two relationships that contrast in more ways than they're alike should be really interesting!!!  
> also eddmatt is just good in general. perhaps i'll write them their own fic in the future.
> 
> also in case you guys havent noticed im very bad at titling things  
> the title of this fic was supposed to be a joke and then i was like 'fuck it, this is it now' and at the very least, the title is enough to catch one's attention  
> since this is an au of mine, i think i'm going to refer to it as  
> to be determined au, or tbd au for short  
> hopefully there's not an au named that already in the ew fandom, otherwise i'll have to brainstorm some more ideas  
> thank you for reading!


	14. plot exposition number,,,, 5? 4? sorry guys i'm losing count.

==> You are now Edd, a few minutes into the past.

==> Normally, you would be getting ready to sleep. You haven’t been too motivated to stay up later to work, which is understandable.

==> A knock on your door disturbs your routine. It’s definitely not Matt; he didn’t leave anything here, and even then he wouldn’t have a reason to turn back. Definitely not Tom… right?

==> The only other explanation could be Ringo wanting to be let in. Yeah, she’s a bit of an outdoor cat now, but she likes to come back home every now and again. However, that’s not really possible right now; cats can’t knock, stupid.

==> You slowly walk to the door, being careful not to press your weight on it as you look through your peephole. Two people stand before you, and you recognize them immediately… well, one. You’re pleasantly surprised to see Pau standing there, but something seems a little… odd about him. The way he’s dressed (at least from what you can see) is a bit off from what you’re used to seeing. The other guy… right, his name loses you, but you know him as the guy that’s never too far behind Pau.

==> Bat? Shat? Rat? One of those, you think.

==> The knocking repeats, breaking you out of your thoughts. Familiar faces are a relief, but why do you have a bad feeling about this?

==> Oh Edd, if only you had a brain ghost to guide your choices and personify your deep-seated flaws like the others do. Unfortunately, you’re just going to have to decide for yourself.

==> In this case, you decide to open the door. Slowly.

==> You’re met with a familiar, smokey smell as Pau and… the other guy… look down at you.

==> Ohhhh, Pat. He’s got a name tag on, thank god.

==> You try your best to smile, mostly at Pau, but immediately extend the courtesy to Pat as well.

==> Still… those uniforms.

==> Pau breaks the silence and asks you how you’ve been. You twitch and tell him that things could be better. You return the question, and he more or less answers the same.  _ Have you and Pat met _ ? You say no, and tell him it’s nice to meet him. Pat gives you a nod, still eyeing you up.

==> _ So. It’s a little late, don’t you think? What are you guys up to this time of night _ ?

==> You stutter on the last few words, and you’ve put your nerves on blast. Pau and Pat exchange looks.

==> Pau then explains to you that they’re here to drop your friend off. You thought the plan was for Tom to be picked up, and he says that some  _ complications  _ came up. Yeah, yeah, that’s understandable.

==> _ Well… where’s Tom, then _ ?

==> Pat responds by asking you to step out for a moment. No, he doesn’t care that you’ve only got your hoodie and undies on. You comply, stepping out into the hallway, where that smoky smell gets strong enough to sting your nose.

==> You feel the presence of a third person. For some reason, your entire body freezes and refuses the action to have you turn your head towards the third body. Every instinct and chemical in your body is screaming at you to step back inside, lock the door, and not come out until  _ they’re gone _ .

==> But why?

==> And yet, you finally force yourself to turn your head. Pau and Pat had moved to your opposite side, appearing to be blocking your way out. When you finally take in the sight of what’s awaiting you, your entire body runs cold. All of the color drains from your face and your knees threaten to give out on you.

==> You can’t describe this feeling; is it fear? Anger? Disgust? Sadness? Some amalgamation of all of them and more? Unfortunately, you’re not a poet; you can’t put this emotion into words.

_ Hello, o--- _

==> The person stops themselves in their sentence.  _ Wait… that introduction may be a little overused… and perhaps has not aged well _ . The thick accent makes your spine shudder.

==> You know who that is, but your brain blanking on the name is just the sheer denial that this is all happening.

_ Edd… really? Are you going to pull a Matt and say you do not remember me? _

==> You sigh; no, you’re not going to do that. The person smiles, and steps closer. Once you’re done fixating on their face, the name  _ Tord _ echoes in your mind. You also notice he has… Tom with him. Sort of. It just looks like Tord leaned his unconscious body against a wall. That doesn’t look good for his neck.

\----

“You’re alive?” Edd finally managed to say something that wasn’t followed by stuttering.

“Of course I am! What, did you think I died in that? Tom thought the same.” Despite the tone of Tord’s voice, which was already unwelcoming, his face was gentle. A smirk was not far behind the genuine smile he showed to Edd.

“So Tom…?”

“Ah, right. I guess there is a lot of explaining to do.” Tord took a step closer to Edd; man, he even decided to wear a red hoodie to invoke the sense of familiarity in Edd. It was almost a cruel joke having Tord, completely battered, scarred, and bruised, slowly reverting back into a long lost version of himself. “I am not going to hurt you, Edd.”

Well, that never crossed Edd’s mind; at least, not immediately. “Well, I… what about Tom?”

“Ah…” Tord turned his head to look at the unconscious man. Yup, sleeping like a baby. “He had a little bit of an incident… which carried into today. Originally you were supposed to come in, and I would have greeted all three of you, but things got a little out of hand.”

“Tord.” Edd finally let the name leave his mouth out loud. “What’s going on?”

“I do not really know where to begin with the answer.” Tord averted his eyes (I mean, okay guys; I know he  _ technically  _ only has one eye, but for the sake of me not having to go back and dissect my own writing, I will use the plural) away from Edd. “I have just been… assisting Tom in his struggles recently.”

“So you know about the cancer?”

“My doctors were the ones who diagnosed it.”

“And his eyes?”

“They also took them out.”

“And…?”

“Yes Edd. Me. All me. He even works in my company, you know? I was never too far behind you three; I did not even have to do much to get Tom to work for me. High paying and entry level was enough.”

“But why?” Sure, the idea of Tord not being a complete douche and fucking Tom over was nice and all, but Edd couldn’t shake the feeling that there was another layer to this. “You hate each other.”

“Correct… partially. He hates me very much. He has already broken my nose once so far.”

“So where do you stand?”

“...That is none of your concern for right now.” Tord took another step towards Edd. “Just know that I have no intention of hurting him… or you.”

“But…” Edd’s guard finally went down, his body sore from how tense his muscles have been since he stepped out of his flat. “Aren’t you angry?”

“My emotions are a little more complicated than black-and-white ‘anger’.” Tord explained, taking another step so he and Edd were only about a foot apart. “Come on, Edd… you want a hug?”

Edd visibly flinched at Tord suddenly spreading his arms. The prosthetic bulged underneath the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Edd took a moment to catch himself before finally deciding to hug Tord.

Tord didn’t like hugs. He wasn’t a touchy person; never was, and presumably, never will be. Getting a hug from Tord was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, at least according to Edd. Edd’s probably the only person Tord has hugged and  _ enjoyed _ hugging. The familiar warmth and friendly love bubbled to the surface of Edd’s mind as Tord’s arms wrapped around him.

Edd could’ve sworn he felt Tord squeeze him just a little tighter. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Time moved in slow motion as Edd’s face pressed into Tord’s shoulder. The gesture was on the verge of bringing Edd to tears, but he kept his composure.

After a few minutes, they finally pulled apart. Tord’s smile was still soft, and held much more weight than his first impression.

“Tord.” Edd’s lip trembled; he was trying so, so hard not to cry. “I’ve missed you.”

That phrase yanked at Tord’s heartstrings. “The feeling is returned… Edd, if you start crying, I am probably going to cry too.”

“W-What? No way, not crying!” Edd became flustered, raising his hand to rub his eyes with his sleeve. “See? No tears. Totally not gonna cry. Not tonight.” Besides, he’s cried enough these past few weeks.

Tord couldn’t help but laugh at him. He placed a hand on Edd’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “As much as I am enjoying this reunion… I do not think our first conversation should be taking place in the hallway.”

“Right, right… you wanna come into my place?”

“Sure.” Tord tilted his head to look past Edd and at Pat and Pau. “You two. Get Tom. Probably not a good idea to keep him out here all night.”

\----------

==> That motherfucker.

==> Fuck that guy.

==> Your blood is so far above the boiling point you feel like your skin is going to melt off the second you’re able to scream out your emotions.

==> Right, sorry, got a little ahead of myself. You are now Eduardo, and you are fucking  _ pissed _ .

==> Thankfully those idiots up the hall were too absorbed in their own heartfelt reunion to notice that the door to your place was just barely cracked open. You had been listening ever since you heard those familiar heavy footsteps come down the hall. 

==> Mark’s with you. He told you it wasn’t a good idea to crack the door open to listen, but you ignored his warning. Right now, you’re witnessing all four of them go back into Edd’s apartment. One of the uniformed men turns around to pick Tom up to carry him in, and you just narrowly avoid catching their gaze.

==> Once they disappear, you finally close and lock the door. You turn around, leaning your back on it and sliding down to the floor.

==> Mark is sitting on your couch, the magazine he was fingering through had long been abandoned. He asks you if you’re okay, and you say you’re good. Just been a stressful, unnecessarily eventful night.  _ Are you going to go to sleep yet _ ? You say no way; you’re far too anxious to sleep now.

==> You’ve got half a mind to go over there and invoke your wrath on those guys, but you know that’s basically a death wish. Besides, you recognized one of those guys as Pau, and you’re pretty sure he’ll kill you the next time he sees you. The thought of that visibly worried Mark; he didn’t want to lose his other best friend, too.

==> Jon’s face flashes in your mind. As much as you’ll never admit it, you miss that guy terribly. Sure, he was an idiot, but he was  _ your  _ idiot. Hell, you might even say… you  _ loved _ him. You don’t know what form of love that would even be, but love seems like the right word to use here. You loved Jon.

==> You love Mark, too. Even though he pisses you off sometimes.

==> You finally get up and walk away from the door, joining Mark on the couch. You sigh as you sink into the furniture, leaning your head back to look up at the ceiling. Yeah, it’s definitely too late to move again. Besides, in a weird way, you do enjoy the familiarity of having those three idiots as your neighbors again. It seems to be the only normal thing to happen to you in the past few years.

==> Mark shares your view, although he hasn’t been as involved with Edd and company lately. He’s been busy with work, and you’ve taken care of keeping him in the know.

==> You’ve been meaning to propose the idea to Edd for all 5 of you to meet up just for shits. However, things have been crazy lately; life has a funny way of butting into things you don’t want it to.

==> A third body joins you on the couch.

==> Mark doesn’t flinch; he doesn’t notice the other person sitting next to you.

==> But you do.

==> You suppose that using  _ Jon _ and  _ love _ in the same thought probably got his attention.

==> You slowly turn your head, and he’s sitting on your other side, meeting your gaze with his hands folded on his lap. Unfortunately for you, you’re in the same boat as Tom and Tord in that sense that your funky apparition is also taking the form they once had during  _ The End _ .

==> And for simplicity’s sake; since Jon is actually dead in this case, this brain ghost will be referred to as Jon, as opposed to a cute nickname-pun combo.

==> Despite how bloody he is, Jon does not stain the couch. Probably because he’s a ghost. However, whether he’s a mental projection of what you yearn for, or a literal poltergeist here to haunt you, is not something you know off the bat. You just know you’ve been seeing him poke his head around for a while now. You’d like to think it’s the real deal haunting your daily life, but you also can’t help but think that maybe your mental health is declining faster than you thought.

==> Jon looks sad this time; probably because he knows what you’re thinking and he knows what just happened. You don’t say anything to him; the tired expression on your face speaks volumes already.

==> Your expression softens at the sadness in his eyes; god fucking  _ damn _ it.

_ You know, I don’t hate him _ .

==> You grit your teeth; Jon’s referring to Tord. Of course Jon doesn’t fucking hate him. Even in the afterlife, Jon is a soft, forgiving little piece of shit idiot and any anger he had must have long dissipated. Better yet, it probably transferred to you over time. 

==> Deep breaths, Eduardo. Don’t do something stupid.

==> You finally focus on Jon’s face again. His hand moves to gently squeeze your thigh as a comforting gesture. You can’t help but tear up; any fury on your face immediately softened as the tears refused to stop.

  
==> You sniffling and moving to wipe your face gets Mark’s attention.  _ Uh, Ed? Are you crying _ ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love drunk by boys like girls is,,,,,, now also a tomtord bop yes i make the rules
> 
> and thank you guys so much for your comments.... i read all of them. i love you so much


	15. we drank pork soda and it was fucking gross. who drinks that shit. i dont care how good of a band glass animals is (THEY ARE) but dont drink pork soda guys.

So Tword is experiencing yet another pickle.

As if it weren’t bad enough that Tom was unconscious, and yet, Tword was still able to wander around like nothing’s happened, Tword realized he had company. No, not Little Tom; normally Little Tom would be up his ass by now, but he was nowhere to be found. No no, Tword has a much worse adversary to deal with.

That guy in particular has been constantly by his side since they locked eyes. Yes, it was a Little Tom situation in the sense that these two idiots looked at each other, realized that they existed to each other, and then interacted. Remember that idiot hierarchy Tword made a few chapters ago? Tom was no longer at the bottom; this guy took the cake.

In case it weren’t obvious by now, the person Tword has to deal with is Twom. Somehow worse than the guy named Little Tom. Well, at least that guy had some sense of decency not to encroach on his personal space. Twom had no sense of boundaries.

“Hey, are you gonna talk to me yet?” Twom tilted his head. Both of them had snuck out back into the hallway to discuss some things. Not like Twom would let Tord hear them anyways, but you can never be too careful.

“I--- I don’t…” Yeah, Tword’s having a hard time coming to terms with this. “How long have you been around?”

“Long enough.” Twom shrugged. “You know, it’s pretty rude to not look someone in the eyes when you’re talking about something serious.”

“Please, just… god, you really are Tord, aren’t you?” Tword finally turned around to face Twom. “So fucking annoying. Please, can you just stand to not hear the sound of your own voice for a few minutes?”

“And you’re really Tom. Super sensitive, can’t take a joke, can’t take shit at face value and needs to conjure up some sort of an excuse for why shit is the way that it is.”

And both of them were right. They can’t dissociate themselves from who they really are, no matter what they look like. What, you thought that these two would get along? Sure, the roles are reversed here, but it’s still, in all essence, Tom and Tord talking.

Tword dragged his hands down his face. “Okay, okay… look, I will listen to what you have to say.”

“Well, to start… why do you look like that?” Ah, Twom was referring to the younger, fresher form that Tword had taken on. Clear skin, fluffy hair, still a little color in his face with a relaxed pose in that comfy red hoodie.

“Oh, you know. Until Tom decides to confront why he feels the way that he does, he will not be seeing the last of me for quite a while.” Tword relaxed, walking over to stand next to Twom.

“Yeah… you’ve got the look right on the money.” Twom eyed Tword up, taking in the details. “Height, that look in your eyes that makes you look like a scheming, dumpster diving raccoon… you’re true to the real Tord, minus not actually being Tord.”

“What about you though?” Tword pointed to the bloodstains on Twom’s hoodie, the cut fabric of his one arm and the harpoon he held so closely to himself. “You have props; if anything you are a little more dedicated to the cause than myself.”

“Tord’s… a little more complicated. Did you hear Tord when he wouldn’t openly admit to hating Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I’m him openly admitting it.”

“Ah…” Tword couldn’t help but gain an uncomfortable expression looking at that harpoon. “So he does hate Tom.”

Twom thought for a moment. “...Yes and no. Hates what he did, hates the fact that Tom’s actions fucked up his chances in the OG Red Army and he had to form his own group. Does he hate Tom? Not as much as you’d think.”

“There is clearly something there.”

“Oh yeah. But I doubt I’d be able to get it out of him myself.” Twom smirked. “No matter how many times I bend him over and fuck his brains out like he  _ wants _ me to, I can never get him to reveal his true intentions without forcing it out of him.”

“...Ah, right.” Well, Twom is certainly open with his methods.

“What? I am literally his walking wet dream.”

“No no, not disagreeing. Just… a little surprised you just admitted outright.”

“What, you don’t go around and fuck your host in their dreams?”

Don’t mention Tori, don’t mention Tori,  _ don’t mention Tori _ . “No, not really.”

“To each their own.” Twom shrugged. “The guy’s got a relationship with sexuality that’s worse than mixing water with hot oil.”

“Oh, I am sure.”

“What about yours though? What’s Tom’s damage?”

Tword was visibly hesitant. “...And we are both under the agreement that we are  _ not  _ telling them about this conversation?”

“I thought it was obvious when we camped out here.”

Well, that’s a good point. “Sort of on the same boat as you. Hates Tord’s actions, does not… Well, sort of does not hate Tord?”

“Sort of.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like that’s anything new.” Twom sighed. “I feel like these two knuckleheads would benefit in investing in a diary.”

“You would think, but I don’t think either of them are that smart.” Tword sat down on the floor, stretching his legs out. “But going back to Tom… he is at least less bent on killing Tord now than he was in the beginning of this.”

“I’ll call it progress.” Twom sunk down next to Tword on the floor, placing the harpoon aside. “Tord really had no intention of killing Tom, either.”

“He is a good actor, then.”

“Mhm…” Twom dug into the pocket of his tattered hoodie, pulling out a familiar looking flask. “Want some?”

“I’m good.”

Oh well, more for Twom. “So… are you gonna tell me?”

Tword raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me how Tom feels for Tord, stupid.”

Tword couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Ha! You really think I would tell you that? Why in the world would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because they won’t hear this conversation?”

“You know, for a guy who hates all of Tord’s bad habits, you seem to practice them as well.” Tword returned Twom’s earlier smirk with his own. “Instant gratification is bad, right? You are going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

Twom lowered his flask. “Are you challenging me?”

“Are you going to take it as such?”

“Hmmm, I could.” Twom leaned a little too close to Tword, their faces only inches from each other. “I don’t think winning against you will be nearly as satisfying as breaking Tom down, but I’m happy to try.”

“Tom may be poor at keeping secrets, sober or not, but I am locked tight.” Tword placed a hand on Twom’s knee. “You won’t be hearing a word out of me about Tom’s true feelings.”

“...I think I can come up with a theory.”

“Amuse me, then.”

“Well, I’ve got a pretty convincing visual aid to work with…” Twom pointed downward to Tword’s lap.

“Ah, what do you..?” Tword stopped in his sentence when he realized what Twom was talking about. You know, the bulge in his pants that just conveniently appeared at the passing thought of Twom fucking the shit out of Tord. “Oh fuck---”

“Ha! He wants to fuck him, doesn’t he?” Twom leaned back a little, not caring about the volume of his laughter. “You can’t hide shit from me!”

“Nononononono, it’s not  _ like that _ !”

“Yeah, it is. I know a boner when I see one. What, you want me to go into detail about what it’s like to fuck Tord? I’ll do that for you, because I like you.”

“Nope. Not necessary. I think this conversation is over.” Tword began to scoot backwards on the floor, away from Twom. “I think you should go back inside with Tord, and stay there until you have to leave. I will go someplace else.”

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet.” Twom grabbed Tword’s ankle, dragging him back over. “You’re giving me what I want, and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?”

“I am not giving you anything!” Tword was useless against Twom; he dragged Tword back to him without much effort. “Let me go!”

“Never.” Twom snickered, letting his other hand trace over the stitching in Tword’s jeans. “You know, this is normally how me and Tord would get started. He’d be all angry and tell me to fuck off, but I knew the heat in his pants was the cause of that aggression.”

“I’m not listening.” Tword plugged his ears with his fingers.

“And then he’d smash his mouth onto mine so hard I swear he was gonna bite my lips off.” Twom’s fingers creeped up Tword’s thigh. “He’d be so hard, he would rip his own clothes off before I could even touch him.”

“Not listening!”

“You know what? He’s always so  _ tight _ too. God, it feels so good when I’m able to--”

“SHUT UP!”

Twom let go of Tword’s leg, laughing way too hard to concentrate on keeping him still. Twom leaned back, laying on the floor as he kept laughing. Tword took this as an opportunity to back away far enough that Twom couldn’t reach him. He sat with his legs crossed, hands over his crotch in hopes that this would end soon.   
  
“Oh my g-god, I can’t breathe.” Twom wheezed as he laid on the floor. “You’re  _ whipped _ , oh my god.”

“Shut up.” Tword spoke sternly, glaring at Twom from across the hall. “So what if I am? That does not prove anything.”

“Oh, it proves  _ so much _ .”

“ _ Please shut up _ .” Tword got up, pulling his hoodie down to cover his boner, which definitely wasn’t leaving anytime soon. “I am going back in with them. If you follow me, I will not hesitate to jump you.”

“You know I’d like that.” Twom sat up, giving Tword a wink.

“You are the most disgusting person I’ve ever spoken to.” Tword walked past Twom, standing by the door leading into Edd’s flat. “I really hope I never have to associate myself with you again.”

“Hoo wow, if only you knew, pretty boy.” Twom managed to get back up to his feet, a little wobbly as he stood. “If anything, we’re gonna be seeing a  _ lot _ more of each other soon.”

“Oh, bite me.”

\---------

==> Suddenly, you’re Tom, 4ish years into the past, the afternoon before everything went wrong.

==> Tord had made his way into the house, and naturally, you’re unhappy about it. Seeing him again and acting like nothing happened puts a pit in your stomach. In between his conversations with Edd and Matt, mischievous eyes flashed in your direction. You sink further into the couch, hoping to avoid Tord’s gaze as he keeps up his facade.

==> The television is stuck on the news; there’s really nothing else on, and you’d rather listen to some old white guy drone on about rugby than listen to Tord’s bullshit. Ringo sits on the other side of the couch, sleeping soundly as evident by her purring and stretching.

==> God, if only you had your flask on you. Drinking until you pass out sounds like a great way to spend the rest of your day.

==> The voices of the other three grow louder as time passes. They’re getting really into whatever they’re talking about, and it’s starting to wear down on your nerves. You decide to get up, only that’s about the worse thing you could’ve done.

==> Edd calls your name out, and you look back at him. He and Matt are by the door; they say they’re running out to get a few things. You ask them where Tord is, and they say he’s in your room. His  _ old _ room.

==> Oh hell no. Not today.

==> You say your goodbyes and immediately spring into action. Go figure, you get to your bedroom door and Tord has already finished picking the locks. You peek into the room, and you regret what you see.

==> Tord’s laying on your bed. He had moved Susan to her stand on the other side of the room. His shoes are by the doorframe, hem of his hoodie lifted oh-so-slightly to reveal his stomach. His eyes are glued to you, a smirk on his blushing face as he eyes you up.

==> You groan, stepping in and shutting the door behind you.

==> Tord says  _ you miss me _ ?

==> You tell him only in his dreams.

==> His smirk fades a little bit.  _ You know, don’t you _ ? You ask him what he means. Tord’s hand lifts to point at the graffitied picture frame up on the wall.  _ Right _ .

==> You ask him what he wants. He tells you that he just wanted to see his old friends again, and you just also happened to be here as well. You step closer, telling him to cut the bullshit out. You hate it when he acts so  _ fake _ happy, it makes you queasy knowing that everything up to this point has been a big fat lie.

==> Tord’s face softens a little and he sits up on the bed.  _ What are you talking about _ ?

==> You say it’s nothing, though it’s pretty obvious from your face that you want to say a lot more than what you’re letting on.

==> Tord sighs, scooting so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He pats the spot next to you, ushering you to sit down with him. You do so reluctantly, and his arm snakes around you the second you sit down.

==> The smell of cigars is new to you at this point, and you don’t particularly mind it. You immediately lean into his touch, letting a sigh escape your nose. Tord can tell that you’re in a particularly sensitive state of mind, and so he eases on the teasing. Once he can tell that you’re relaxed, he wraps his other arm around you and drags you to lay down. 

==> Finally, you return the gesture and hug Tord back. You can tell he likes it from hearing his breath hitch and the faint bumping of his heartbeat pick up. And you both stay like that for a few minutes; no talking, no moving, no nothing. You just keep your grip on Tord’s body and take in his warmth.

==> _ Hey _ , Tord says, finally breaking the silence you’re trying to cherish. You ask him what he wants, and he removes his arms and scoots back a little. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he cups your face in his hands and goes in for a kiss.

==> Compared to past experience, it’s gentle. Tord isn’t a gentle person in any sense of the word; there is not a single gentle cell in this man’s body, and here he is. You’re caught off guard at first, but you ease into the motion as your hands move to Tord’s chest.

==> You honestly think this is bullshit. You don’t just  _ leave _ for almost a decade only to come back and act like nothing’s happened. Hell, even sharing a tender moment like this is enough to raise some eyebrows. Still, you don’t stop kissing him; his teeth are teasing your lips to part and you comply. At this point, it’s getting way too  _ warm _ for you to think clearly.

==> The familiarity of Tord’s body rushes back to you. Before you know it, you’re on top of him. He’s looking up at you, frazzled and red-faced as a line of drool peeked from the corner of his mouth. You hate him. You hate that soft expression on his face and the way he can just  _ sway _ you by being gentle. You hate it so much. The thought of it almost makes you visibly angry until one of his hands moves towards your face, his fingers playing with your lower lip.

==> The action makes you melt, and you respond by gently grinding on him. That hand moves from your mouth to harshly gripping your neck, forcing your head down back into another round of sweet, hate-filled tonsil hockey.

==> It doesn’t take long for the clothes to come off. You don’t even know when Edd and Matt are supposed to be back, and you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s already bitten down on your shoulder a few times to make sure his presence on your body remains known. That action is enough for you to spring towards your nightstand and grab some lube.

==> You coat three of your fingers with the lube before sticking one into Tord. As you spread him gently, you return the favor from earlier by leaving some hickeys along his collarbone. All Tord can do is squirm and moan in response, one of his hands gripping your hair and the other one gripping the bed.

==> You can’t resist him when he’s in this state. Your second finger slides in effortlessly as you graze your teeth on his shoulder. You decide to bite down, putting all of your anger and hate into that action. Tord yells out, but he doesn’t tell you to stop despite the blood beginning to surface on the skin. The third finger goes in and Tord begins to  _ beg _ you to just fuck him already.

==> His begging is going to be the thing that ends you.

==> You know he doesn’t outwardly like begging. Makes him look weak, makes it seem like his delusions of control are slipping. Personally, you think it’s a great thing to happen; someone’s gotta knock that guy down a few pegs, right? Even after all this time, Tord’s quirks in foreplay haven’t changed. You slip your fingers out, quickly moving to lube up your neglected cock before you get back on top of him.

==> You don’t give him any warning when you push inside of him. He whines a little and grips your arms for support, but you get yourself in without incident. Once Tord’s body relaxes a little, you begin to move slowly. Tord’s hands remain on your arms while one of yours moves to his neck. You don’t press down too hard; you can feel his throat vibrate as he moans from your thrusting, and that’s enough to make you go faster.

==> If the position were a little different, you wouldn’t mind having both hands around his neck. He’s done the same to you before; hell, he left bruises on you for how much of an iron grip he’s got. Some of the blood from your bite is smeared on your fingers, but that’s fine. Tears are beginning to form in Tord’s eyes, and that only makes you move the hand from his neck so you can kiss him longer.

==> The tension diffused between you guys the second Tord decided to put his arm around you. You have a lot to tell him, there’s a lot for you two to talk about and work out. Are you going to do that? No. You’re going to fuck his brains out. You’re going to let him know what he was missing all this time.

==> Even this far into the past, you’re still terrible at communicating. Don’t worry, Tord isn’t any different.

==> Tord’s already cracking under the pressure; it doesn’t take much of your rough movements to make him orgasm. He lets out a high pitched whine as he wraps his legs around you, his cum getting between your stomachs. None of that gets you to stop, and if anything it makes you move faster. Despite Tord’s whining, you know that he loves a good period of overstimulation.

==> Well, maybe he’s a little out of practice. In between his noises and his fingernails digging into the back of your neck, you finish not too long after him. Your head rests in the crook of his neck as you slow down, and you can feel a little bit of blood trickling from where Tord’s grabbing you.

==> The law of equivalent exchange is reached; you pull your dick out of him, a trail of fluids following you, and Tord lets go of your neck, blood spotting his fingertips.

==> You rest on your knees in between his legs. You have a look of disgust on your face, but the sight of your cum leaking out of Tord and his messy stomach and half-hard cock almost makes you want to go again. You know that’s a bad idea; Edd and Matt could come back at any moment.

==> Tord returns your look of disgust with a smirk, ignoring the sweat dripping down his face as he tries to catch his breath. You tell him he should probably take a shower, and Tord responds by telling you that you should take care of that blood dripping down your neck.

==> You ask him why he came back. Tord tells you that you already know why as he finally gets himself to sit up. You say that’s not what you mean; you why he was sitting himself in  _ your _ room, on  _ your _ bed, eyeing you up like you’re some five-course meal. Tord’s smirk breaks a little as he pulls his legs away from you to sit on the edge of the bed.

==> He doesn’t answer you; he just stares at you with a guilty expression and folds his hands in his lap. You just want to know the truth; these mind games got old years ago, and you’re really not in the mood for him to brush you off and disappear again. Your face changes from disgust to confusion and sadness, and Tord sighs.

_ We are not going to do this anymore _ .

==> You say yeah, no shit. This is the first time you guys have banged in  _ how long _ ? Of course it’s not going to last. Tord says no; he means everything. This is the last time you two will be involved with each other. No sneaking around, no sex, no nothing.

==> _ We’re not even together, you piece of shit! _ You spit at him, getting off your knees and standing up from the bed. Tord’s expression strains further;  _ he _ thinks otherwise, but he’s not going to tell you that.

==> _ So that’s it. It’s just over. We’re just never going to talk again _ ? Tord shrugs, and only tells you it’s for the best for both of you. He’s pretty bent on his decision. You ask him if you were only a game; something pretty for him to fuck and toy with when he needs it. It certainly didn’t feel like that awhile ago, but in between Tord’s departure and return you gained a lot of baggage.

==> Tord says he had no intention of using you as just a body. As hard as you find that to believe, he insists that it’s the truth. Things have just gotten harder lately, and it’s just better to cut it off now before you both get too invested. You’re visibly shaking, and Tord only gives you a sad, tired expression. Finally, he stands up, ignoring the mess he’s leaving behind.

==> He gathers his clothing in silence, moving to leave the room and clean up. He turns back to you;  _ this does not only apply to us, it applies to Edd and Matt, too _ .

==> You try to ask him what he means, and he walks out of the room ignoring you. You’re left alone, surrounded by your discarded clothes and covered in sweat, semen, and a little blood. Any post-nut clarity you had immediately vanishes and is replaced with a heavy weight on your heart.

==> Why do you feel like you just got dumped? No, not even dumped; like someone just kicked you to the ground and stepped on you? Like getting your heart ripped out of your chest? You shouldn’t feel like this; you  _ hate _ Tord and Tord hates you, right? That’s how it’s always been, even when Tord was gone.

==> No goodbyes, no parting smiles. He just  _ walked out _ , and that sadness is replaced with anger. You want to do something to him. You want to hurt him in the way that he just hurt you, but you know that you can’t. Not because Edd and Matt could walk in and see their two friends, naked and filthy, beating the shit out of each other, but because you can’t bring yourself to.

==> Empty threats loop inside of your head as you clean yourself up. A small bathroom is beside your bedroom, and thankfully Tord didn’t take that one. You assume that he either went to Matt or Edd’s side of the hallway, and that’s good enough for you. You make your shower short, because chances are you’ll sit down and wallow instead of clean yourself up.

==> When you come back out into the livingroom and kitchen, Matt and Edd return with some groceries. Tord rests against the wall, his gait a bit shaky, but Matt and Edd don’t seem to notice. The fatigue on his face from earlier is replaced with that fake, gross smile he puts on. You know, the one you hate.

==> Looking at Tord, Matt, and Edd interacting normally makes you want to throw up.

==> You don’t hide your expression as you make for the front door. Edd asks you what’s wrong, and you tell him that Tord needs to fuck off.  _ Come on Tom, I know you two don’t like each other, but he said he would behave _ !

  
==> Oh Edd, if only he knew. If Tord’s actions from earlier were an indication that he was  _ behaving _ , then Tom wanted nothing to do with anyone in this house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is my bias to pork soda obvious yet or
> 
> o yeah and another thing,,,,, was about to say 'sorry for updating super often' but it seems like you guys like that  
> i just thought that maybe since this is so long already that it could be like 'oh no stop it'll end sooner'  
> let me assure you that we're not even halfway through my notes
> 
> we're in this for the long haul guys  
> also  
> i feel a little more comfortable with sharing social media  
> my tumblr is nyanhart. feel free to harass me there if you so desire. will probably make a post about this fic sometime later today.


	16. edd commits a felony. eduardo helps.

==> And finally, you’re awake.

==> Okay, there’s a lot to catch up on. For right now, you’re Tom. Well, still Tom. You didn’t really  _ stop _ being Tom.

==> Last we met up, you were Tom about four years and then some-ago, and now you’re present day Tom (as of that chapter), but add some months after that.

==> It was wintertime, and thankfully you made it through without much incident. Edd had eventually touched base with you concerning his conversation with Tord, and it made you livid. That flare of temper only lasted for a minute before you realized just how happy Edd was.

_ I thought I was never gonna see him again, Tom. I missed him so much. He actually looked happy to see me _ .

==> You had a lot of choice words for that statement, but you kept your mouth shut. Edd just sounded so happy, you couldn’t bring yourself to be rotten. Besides, you were unconscious for that whole ordeal, so you didn’t really have a lot of room to make comments. Well, that’s what Tword said.

==> He said he didn’t pay much attention to the interaction; he was more focused on making sure you were going to wake up. You couldn’t help but be a little suspicious at Tword’s reasoning, but you kept it at that level; just a suspicious hunch. It had gotten to the point where Tword was never  _ gone _ ; he was constantly around you, following you, sometimes mimicking what you’re doing at any point in time. You wanna know what his problem is; sure, you can’t see him, but you can sense him. He doesn’t exactly hide himself very well.

==> But, like with everything, Tword never gave you a straight answer.

==> And now it’s June.

==> As much as you hate the holiday season, you like the crisp, cold weather and winds. Geographically, you’re cursed with muggy, hot summers and you can’t do much about it.

==> Edd did read over a neglected pamphlet for the complex all of you live in. Apparently each unit came with an air conditioning window unit to compromise for the lack of central air. Edd took this detail as  _ I’m going to break into every vacant apartment and steal the window units _ .

==> And he did this.

==> He even got Eduardo into it. A duo to be reckoned with. Oh, how times changed.

==> You’d muster the best  _ what the fuck _ expression you could, and Edd would say  _ what? No one’s using them _ !

==> Well, he’s right?

==> So now the three of you, plus Mark and Eduardo, have more window units than you know what to do with. At least it’s easier to keep cool?

==> So, it’s June, and things haven’t gotten much better.

==> The remaining neighbors you once had at the complex had moved out before spring started. It was just you five, plus a few wayward souls on the upper floors, and some staff. The staff never really bothered you anyways; come to think of it, you can’t remember the last time either of you spoke with a receptionist of some kind. Not exactly a good business practice.

==> You’re sitting in front of one of Edd’s windows, generously filled with a stolen AC unit blowing cold air onto your head. He put a cup of cola in your hand with an obnoxiously long straw running up to your mouth. You’re not as big on cola as he is, but you can appreciate a cold drink right now.

==> Despite you being stripped down to a black tank top and your undies, you still feel sweaty. Edd’s in the same attire as you, except a t-shirt with a lot of Ringo-caused holes in it. Matt’s here too; also in his underwear and some undershirt, sitting at the next window over from you.

==> Matt was informed about Tord’s presence not too long after you and Edd spoke about it. Now, you still couldn’t see him, but you could just barely tell that he wasn’t as excited as he let on. You never really got an opportunity to ask him about it; it didn’t help that the both of you were almost constantly with Edd. You’re still staying at Edd’s place, and Matt’s been expressing his discomfort with being alone for too long.

==> Tword sits next to you, obnoxiously sipping a drink similar to yours. You assume he’s dressed in the same way as you, but you can’t tell. You haven’t paid him any mind since you’re around friends, but he hasn’t attempted to speak to you either.

==> You have noticed that you’ve been having less dreams of coffee table conversations with Tword and more about… past events. Those memories that you’ve buried deep, deep down have been bubbling back into view, and you literally can’t handle it. Unfortunately, Tword can’t do much to stop it except comfort you and assure you that whatever you’re thinking isn’t true. He’s not very good at comforting people, but at least he doesn’t think you’re completely nuts about still being hung up on this stuff.

==> Well, you’re not. If anything you have more than enough reason to still be damaged over it. Do Edd and Matt know this? No. You’d rather die than tell them about this. It’s not their problem;  _ they _ didn’t stick their dick in Tord, you did. Your circus, your monkeys.

==> You had been visiting and chatting with Tord in between your appointments these past couple of months. Every time, you’d ask him when you would be able to see again. Tord would assure that it’s coming along; it’s just some technology that’s still in the works, and it may take a little more time before you would be able to test it. Of course, any frustrations you had with him would be immediately quelled as you could hear a Smirnoff bottle being broken open.

==> Fucking alcoholic.

==> Referring to yourself, not Tord. Sure, he made it a point to let you know he was also taking shots, but he could always be lying. The thought of him lying makes you grip the glass in your hand a little tighter.  _ Wouldn’t be the first time _ .

\----

A sudden set of footsteps walking into the room pulls Tom away from his thoughts. Eduardo and Mark had decided to visit, dressed the nines, except they had shorts on  _ over _ their underwear, like mostly decent human beings.

“Did I walk in on something?” Eduardo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? A couple of bros can’t chill in their briefs?” Edd responded in a bit of a teasing tone. “If anything, I’d invite you to join us.”

“I’ll pass. I brought a gift.” Eduardo set a box on the table. Edd walked over to check it out, and soon Matt followed him. Tom didn’t move; he could just listen to them talk.

“...Is this a kiddie pool?” Matt let his fingers drum on the box, reading the labels.

“Yeah, it is. It’s fucking  _ hot _ and it’s a death wish to try and find a public pool.”

“So you got a pool. For children.” Edd sighed, his eyes returning to Eduardo’s. “Is this your idea of a joke or something?”

“No, dumbass. I have more. I’m suggesting we use them for a party.”

“...A party.” The disbelief in Edd’s voice couldn’t be more noticeable. Matt walked back to his previous spot and Tom stifled a laugh from the floor.

“Excuse me for trying to suggest something to lift up the spirits of this shitshow, damn.” Eduardo crossed his arms. “Besides, this one’s for no-eyes over there.”

“Why the hell would I want a kiddie pool  _ now _ ?” Tom spoke, not turning his head towards Eduardo’s voice.

“Jesus Christ, can you guys accept a nice gesture without interrogation?”

“Well, actually…” Edd’s tone turned a bit calmer, his brain racing a few thoughts through. “It could work. We each get a pool, sit in it… it’ll probably be the closest to a relaxing experience we’ll get.”

“Stupid enough to work.” Tom huffed, taking a sip from his straw. “There’s an empty field behind the building. Pretty sure no one’s gonna throw a fit if we decide to hang out back there.”

“Wow, it’s like I’m actually capable of good ideas.” Eduardo spoke up. “So, are we doing this or what?”

Edd and Tom both nod, Matt hesitantly mumbles a ‘yes’ as he pressed his face against the window unit.

“Then that settles it.” Eduardo turns around, Mark following the action. “Saturday.”

“Saturday works.” Edd picked up the box, moving it from the table to the space in between Tom and Matt. “We’ll be there.”

“I’ll come for you guys.” Eduardo flashed what was only a hint of a smile before turning back to the door. “Later, losers.”

Once the door closed, indicating that Eduardo and Mark have officially left, Tom decided to speak up.

“Edd. Are you being serious?”

“What do you mean?” Edd raised an eyebrow, looking down at Tom on the floor.

“We’re not really gonna hang out with those guys, are we?”

“Tooom, come on. We’ve talked about this. We’re on a truce and everything!”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Tom crossed his arms, the ice in his glass clinking together. “What’s making him be so nice to us all of sudden?”

“I don’t know Tom, maybe it’s because we all lost a friend that day?”

“Correction;  _ you _ lost a friend. Tord isn’t my friend.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s your friend or not, Tom!”

“It  _ does _ matter, Edd! Stop calling him my friend. He isn’t my friend, wasn’t friend, and  _ never will be my frie _ \---”

“Guys!!!”

Edd and Tom both whipped their heads around to Matt’s voice. Matt didn’t like arguments, especially when they involved his friends.

“Let’s not yell about this.” Matt put his hands up, trying to diffuse the situation. “Let’s just… go? What’s the harm?”

“Tom’s pride, maybe.” Edd snorted, lightly tapping Tom’s knee with his foot.

“If I agree, will you guys stop badgering me about everything? I’m not some hopeless asshole on a mental decline.”

Tword snorted. “Yes, you are.”

Edd sighed, looking down at the box. “Alright, I guess I’ve been a little up your ass lately.”

“A little?”

“ _ Yeah _ , a little.” Edd cut Tom off before he could make another comment. “Sorry that I’m worried about my friend dying.”

Tom’s face softened a little. “...Edd, I’m not gonna die.”

“I know.” Edd’s shoulders slumped, hands moving to grip either of his arms to keep himself centered. “...But the possibility keeps scaring me.”

Tom’s hand moved to find Edd’s leg. Thankfully, Edd wasn’t standing too far away from him, so he was able to squeeze Edd’s ankle in some sort of comforting gesture. “Seriously Edd, I’m fine. I’m not going to die on you or anything.”

“And if you do?”

“I’ll let you perform some sort of exorcism; candles and everything. Or maybe just a ouija board. And you can bring me back from the dead and kill me again.”

Edd couldn’t help but laugh at that; a little morbid, but it cheered him up a little. “I think we can make that work.”

\----

==> Suddenly, you’re Little Tom.

==> Yeah, you’ve been in the room the whole time. The sheer amount of repressed sexual energy radiating from Matt is intense. You’re genuinely surprised no one else has picked up on it yet.

==> You say  _ really _ ? You’re fighting a boner over seeing the guy in his tighty-whiteys? Matt shushes you discreetly, and you just shrug.

==> You can also understand the other half of Matt’s tension; seeing Edd on the verge of tears always seems to initiate some fight-or-flight response within Matt. You could feel the urge for him to run over there and hug Edd, but Tom sort of beat him to the punch. With a nice, sensual squeeze to the ankle.

==> No, thankfully Matt’s not jealous. He’s not really the jealous type in this case. He’s not dating Edd yet; he’s just painfully pining over him and hoping that, one day, Edd will stop being an oblivious piece of shit andmaybemakeoutwithhimalittlewhoknows.

==> You sigh. He’s hopeless.

==> Your eyes move to Tword. He’s been whispering to you for a majority of this hangout session. Tword filled in some of the cracks of Edd and Tom’s explanation, and even mentioned meeting that other motherfucker. Oooh, he doesn’t seem to like him very much.

==> Apparently this guy was in the same boat as you and Tword.  _ Oh great, another one. New friend _ ? Tword furiously shakes his head; he’d rather die than see that guy again. Man, if he’s as bad as Tword claims, you  _ really _ want to meet him now. Knowing that this stranger is stuck with Tord piques your interest even more; you only got a glance of him that night in the hall, and then you had to go and do your routine with Matt. If you were able to sneak away to eavesdrop, you absolutely would have.

==> Tword leans back and sighs. You ask him if Tom knows that Matt likes Edd. Tword has to stifle back laughter;  _ only an idiot wouldn’t know that _ .

==> That makes you smile a little. At least someone knows Matt’s efforts are going unrewarded.

\------

==> We’re really going through transitions, huh.

==> Well, things are finally starting to pick up. But only a little bit. This is still a slowburn story, and the placement of the story currently is the equivalent of trying to start a bonfire with twigs that were rained on overnight in your backyard. (True story; we had to burn cardboard to make do.)

==> You as in the reader, sorry.

==> But now you’re no longer the reader. You’re now Tord.

==> Instead of toiling away in your office, you’ve decided to give yourself the day off. It’s already evening, and the only thing you’ve done today of significance is drag yourself into the shower and jerk off. Pau and Pat had asked you if you wanted company, and you politely told them no thank you. You just really, really need to be alone right now.

==> Well, alone plus Twom. That guy is never going to leave you alone, even if you die.

==> Twom laid next to you on the other side of the bed. He could tell you were in a funk, so he didn’t try to push any of your buttons yet. A television mounted on your wall buzzed quietly, only sparing it your attention when you needed something to stare at.

==> You could tell Twom was getting bored; you can feel him rolling around and fidgeting next to you, sometimes letting his body sit on top of you before immediately pulling away. You’re not playing into his games today and you’ve made that clear already. There’s just too much going on in that puke-filled head of yours.

==> Even with months gone by, that conversation with Edd is still on your mind. His face, how he missed you terribly, the hug you exchanged, and the other one, and the other one… the thought of it simultaneously makes your heart warm and fuzzy and your stomach close to making you throw up. You haven’t seen Edd in person since that day; anything intended for him to know has either been said through Tom, or you’ve texted him. Texting is relaxing enough; not a lot of pressure to reply, and you can be as vague as you want.

==> Despite how cryptic you can be sometimes, Edd just seems happy to talk to you. Matt hasn’t offered you that same courtesy, and Tom’s just sick of seeing you 3-4 times a week. Speaking of Tom, he hasn’t been giving you  _ as much _ attitude lately, and you still can’t figure out why. Maybe he’s trying to behave for Edd and Matt’s sake, but that never stopped him from ripping you a new asshole before.

==> You hum, running those thoughts through as the noise you make gets Twom’s attention. He rolls to turn and look at you expectantly.

==> You squint at him suspiciously.  _ Do you need something _ ?

==> He smirks.  _ If I tell you what I need, you’ll hit me _ .

==> You sigh. You don’t know what you expect from him by now, but you’re always disappointed when he opens his stupid mouth.

==> Twom pokes your side to keep your attention on him. He asks you when you’re gonna fuck Tom again. You give him an exasperated look; yes, he does normally ask recklessly blunt questions like this, but he  _ knows _ what you’re thinking. You tell him to knock it off, and he just shrugs. You say that you’re pretty sure Tom would kill you if you tried to come onto him.

==> _ You don’t think he’d fall for Tori again _ ?

==> _ Are you stupid or something _ ?

==> _ I’m you, so answer your own question _ .

==> God, you hate him. You might even hate Twom more than the real Tom, and that speaks volumes.

==> You finally sit up; maybe it’d be a good idea to just… go outside or something. Just for a little walk. Maybe not even go outside, but just move your body in a way that you don’t feel like repeatedly kicking yourself while laying down in your bed. Twom follows your actions up to you sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing your slippers on the floor.

==> Twom asks you what you plan to do next in regards to Tom. You ask him what he means, and for once he gives you a serious answer;  _ I’m talking about his eyes _ . Ah, right, a part of the plot you almost forgot about.

==> You love to boost your own ego for how smart you are. Let’s be honest; you and Twom have the combined common sense of a stale cracker. However, you’re very intelligent otherwise. You know your way around machines and chemicals and other things smart people do. However, you’ve never had the pleasure of sucking the cancer out of one’s eyeballs and somehow finagling a way for those eyeballs to function without issue.

==> So it’s pretty accurate to say that you’ve gone through many,  _ many  _ prototypes.

==> _ Okay, so then what _ ?

==> Well… that’s where you’re kind of stuck. You could use Tom as your guinea pig. It’s not like any procedures you have in mind would hurt him in any way… you just don’t know how you feel about it. Yes, despite everything that’s built up so far, you have  _ some  _ grip on your morals.

==> Twom shrugs, standing up before you do. He says that if it’s like that, you should just go for it. Besides, Tom would probably appreciate being able to use his eyes again. The guy looks more and more miserable every time he comes around. You suppose Twom has a point; it’s not like there are any fatal repercussions with a little more experimenting.

==> You drag your hands down your face; maybe consulting some of the specialists working on this will help you come closer to a decision, but for today you’re adamant about staying as far away from work as possible. Before you can think about what to do next, your phone begins to vibrate on your nightstand.

_ tord!!!! _

==> It’s Edd. Seeing his name and little Ringo avatar pop up as you unlock your phone makes you smile.

==> For simplicity’s sake once again; Edd will be  _ italicized _ and you will be  **bold** .

**Edd!!!!**

_ tord , i have a question _

**Chances are I might have an answer.**

**Shoot.**

_ so i was talking to our neighbors earlier _

_ they wanna hang out _

**Did you not mention before that you used to hate these neighbors?**

_ yeah but we’re on a truce now _

_ it’s complicated and too many details _

_ anyways _

_ they wanna hang out _

_ and i was going to ask if you maybe want to join us? _

**Are you asking them first?**

**I know I can be a jerk but I’d rather not intrude.**

_ i’ll ask don’t worry _

_ but i wanted to know if you were even remotely interested in being invited _

_ i haven’t seen you in person for months and i don’t want it to turn into a long time again _

==> Oh. That statement makes you visibly frown.

==> You’re such a softie, Tord.

**I suppose I could make time out of my busy schedule.**

**What day?**

_ this saturday probably _

_ if everything goes well _

**I’ll see what I can do :)**

**Consider it a maybe.**

_ awesome _

_ i’ll keep you posted on details okay? _

_ sorry to cut the conversation short but i gotta help tom fit into a kiddie pool _

**A what?**

==> And then he doesn’t reply, in typical Edd fashion. He probably tossed his phone somewhere, never to be seen again.

==> Of course, Twom has to ruin the moment by laughing the second you lower your phone.

==> You turn to him, clearly not impressed, and ask him what the hell he’s laughing at. He puts his hand up for you to give him a second to compose himself. He asks you if you realize what you’re getting yourself into. You ask him what he means, and he holds back another fit of giggles.  _ For fuck’s sake, spit it out already! _

==> He tells you to calm down,  _ drama queen _ . Since it seems like you repressed that part of your memory, Twom offers to remind you.

_ Those neighbors? You killed their friend, remember _ ?

==> Really? That’s it?

==> Twom scoffs at you. He’s actually impressed with how indifferent you could be about this. You ask him why it even matters, and Twom tells you it’s because more than likely, they know who you are. They probably won’t like you very much. Well, you say you’re only going for Edd, Matt, and maybe Tom; you couldn’t give a shit about some other people you’ve never met.

==> Twom doesn’t say anything else about it; there’s no getting through to you on this. You’re only going for your  _ old friends _ ; if anything else arises, you could just leave. Pau and Pat will more than likely be joining you, more out of obligation of your safety and less for company. But if you’re going to have a leisure-filled day on Saturday, you’re going to have to work twice as hard this week to make sure you don’t fall behind.

==> And Tom…

==> You have a desk on the opposite side of your small bedroom, not too far away from the door leading out of the room. Papers and discarded pencils and pens littered the surface, most of the content in mind being plans you had for various other small projects you’re working on. A blueprint hangs on the wall above the desk; it’s a blueprint for a visor for one’s eyes.

==> You haven’t perfected this yet; there’s still a lot of bugs to be worked out. You have a prototype that has passed a majority of tests so far. Instead of it being a visor, this device poses as a pair of ordinary glasses with some adjustments.

==> You could just pawn this prototype onto Tom for the time being while you work on the final product. Suddenly the idea of Tom being your guinea doesn’t sound too terrible. If anything, you’d be doing him a favor. Maybe he would be a bit easier to work with if he could actually drink his own shots as opposed to you hand-feeding him every time you two sat down to drink.

==> Okay, that memory makes you snort. As embarrassing as some of those drinking sessions get, seeing Tom frustrated at his lack of alcohol is pretty hilarious.

==> _ Is it cute _ ?

==> Jesus Christ, Twom. Every second of peace is something that he needs to spoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello
> 
> so i was super spooked about sharing my tumblr bc,,, i dunno  
> im shy, im anxious blah blah blah  
> but also i didnt know how well this fic would do, due to some of the content in it  
> but im very glad to see that you guys like it and that i've acquired a bit of an audience
> 
> so thank you guys so much for reading  
> and being so welcoming and supportive and shit
> 
> and i really really like the music recommendations and other asks being sent my way  
> please by all means send me asks anon or not i would love to talk to you guys!!!!  
> and someone sent me an ask if mutuals could dm me but i either answered it privately by accident or tumblr ate it  
> the answer is yes. blow up my dms  
> (also those of u who reblogged my post about T:TBD,,,,,,, i read the tags. youre all so sweet i love you guys so much ♥♥♥♥)


	17. im sad irl so i gotta make all of you sad by proxy

==> You’re now Eduardo.

==> As usual, you’re pissed. But a little more pissed than usual.

==> You just got out of a text conversation with Edd, who decided to invite Tord to  _ your gathering _ .

==> Well, he asked you first, or so he claims. However, you’re currently blinded by your own fury.

==> And you, being the absolute fucking pushover you are… you said  _ yes _ .  _ Why _ ?

==> Your head moves from your phone screen as you throw your phone at the couch. You look at Jon, who seems pretty content.  _ Stupidly content _ , you may mutter under your breath.

==> It was his idea for you to say yes. Yeah, you suppose it might be somewhat healthy, but you can’t forgive the guy who killed your friend. Love thy neighbor, forgiveness, yada yada  _ blah fucking  _ **_blah_ ** . You’re still in the ‘this is fucking bullshit’ stage of grief, and seeing Jon’s cute little ghost all the time isn’t helping.

==> Mark was even surprised you said yes.  _ He  _ wouldn’t have said yes, but you did. God damn it, you did. Idiot!

==> Jon places a hand on your shoulder and it startles you. He tells you that you’ll be fine, and you disagree. And yet the feeling of his hand on you seems to calm you down. Maybe you should listen to reason? Ugh, this is so hard.

==> Jon’s smiling, dorky face is oddly reassuring. Some of the tension leaves your body as he tries to tell you that maybe hanging out with everyone will make you feel better. Well, what about Tord? He assures you that, worse case scenario, you can just ignore him. Jon’s not gonna force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. Besides… what are the chances of Tord recognizing you?

==> Well, it’s not Tord you’re worried about getting the attention of. It’s that other guy. Eyebrows McFuckface. Jon says  _ Pau _ ? Yeah, that guy.

==> Jon doesn’t really have much of an opinion on Pau. You ask him if he was even present for that ordeal, and so  _ conveniently _ , Jon doesn’t remember. Of course he doesn’t.

==> Still, Jon maintains his optimism. He insists that you’ll be fine. And if you die? You get to hang out with him for all of eternity!

==> Wow. Even dead, Jon’s still an idiot.

==> Jon says  _ what _ ? All you would have to do is figure out a way for Mark to die!

==> Yeah, definitely an idiot.

\------

==> You are now back to being Tom, except 4 years and some chump change into the past.

==> You’ve finally settled in your new place that you got a hold of before The End. Edd and Matt are right behind you in moving in. For the moment, they’ve taken refuge on your couch with their currently pocketed belongings. Edd and Matt sat quietly, watching television as Ringo spread her body across both of their laps.

==> You are currently sitting at your little kitchen table, leafing through paperwork concerning the house that Tord just destroyed. The marks he left on your body continue to throb despite you pushing down every single emotion you’re feeling. Edd and Matt are already seriously broken up over this and won’t even talk to each other; you need to be the strong one here.

==> Being strong comes with a price. You feel like your heart was ripped out of your chest and stomped on. Maybe you felt a little more for Tord than you thought; maybe you wanted more of Tord than a few holes to stick your dick into. You don’t know, no one knows, and you don’t think you’ll ever find out.

==> Your first assumption is that he died on impact. Your first thought is  _ good riddance _ but your immediate second thought is  _ I should’ve just finished the job myself _ . Just thinking about it is tempting your eyes to tear up, but you manage to keep yourself together. You glance over at Edd and Matt; still quiet, watching some black-and-white sitcom that you can just barely hear from where you’re sitting.

==> Your ripped up hoodie was replaced with one of Matt’s as a temporary solution. It smells like him and his cologne, and that brings you comfort. Your arm is still throbbing from the laceration you suffered and you still wobble a little when you walk, but you’re alive. Matt’s black eye and bruised face are still fresh, but he seems to be taking it relatively well. Either that, or he’s just  _ really good _ at being quiet for once.

==> A soft tap to your leg startles you. You look down and it seems like Ringo had abandoned the others for you. Perhaps she senses your distress; perhaps she just wants pets. You don’t really care which one it is seeing as that your hand is already moving down to scratch her head. She purrs contently, pushing her hand up into your head to urge you to keep going.

==> And… wait a second.

==> Ringo’s always worn a collar. That collar always has a tag on it with her name, Edd’s cell phone number engraved on the back. This isn’t anything abnormal, except you can’t quite make out her name on the tag.

==> Which is weird, because Edd made it a point to cover it in glitter so it’s easy to see for anyone.

==> You squint a little more, inching your face closer to her and bending downward towards the floor. Yeah, it’s a little blurry.

==> Oh  _ fuck it _ . This isn’t important right now!

==> You return to your original position, scratching Ringo’s head for a few more seconds before you pull your hand back. Going back to the paperwork in your hands… well, there’s not a lot. No one’s going to believe you firsthand that your rival up and destroyed your house with his giant robot with one swoop. So much for the potential of insurance.

==> You push the paper away, your head turning back to Edd and Matt. Their heads are lowered, so to you it looks like they fell asleep. It’s getting pretty late, so you can’t say you blame them. It’s been a long weekend.

==> You finally stand up. There’s a folded blanket sitting on the floor by the couch and you go for it. Carefully unfolding it, you gently drape it on your friends. Matt only stirs a little, but his calm breathing rhythm is regained easily. Ringo takes back her position on the couch, jumping in the small nestle of blanket created by Edd and Matt. The sight makes you smile a little.

==> Quietly, you retreat to your small bedroom. You shut the door, quietly take off your shoes and faceplant into the bed. Hell, the bed’s so fresh you can still smell… yeah. You smell Tord on it.

==> You groan quietly into the pillow. You never changed those sheets, and perhaps you should. And yet that familiar smell is drawing you deeper and deeper into your pillow. You could easily fall asleep right now, but you’re too worked up to even focus on calming down.

==> Your head turns to face the window. You don’t even stop the tears that begin to trail on your pillow case. The moon is partially obscured by some clouds, but other than that it looks like a decent night. You are feeling far from decent. As the tears continue to fall, you feel yourself slowly unfolding from the inside.

==> Maybe you don’t hate Tord as much as you think you do. Maybe you even like him? Maybe not as friends, but… as something. Yet whatever you two had felt so raw and so real… and then he  _ left _ . Even in your last moments together, tangled in the sheets with each other, you felt the same spark you felt all those years ago…

==> And yet the last time he looked at you, in that moment, it seemed as if all of that fire had been extinguished in his eyes.

==> Even now, you can’t quite distinguish the emotion he displayed on his face. The entire thing happened so fast and you stormed out of the house before anyone could do anything. The thought of you moving away from Tord makes your stomach wrench. You curl up into yourself, wetting your pillow with your tears as you resist sobbing.

==> If you wake up Edd and Matt with your crying… no, you don’t even wanna think about that. The thought of that happening just makes you feel  _ worse _ .

==> Maybe you like Tord. Maybe you like his snarky attitude or his petty jabs at you from time to time. Maybe you like it when he plays along with your aggression and you toy each other. Maybe you like the way he gives you  _ those eyes _ whenever he wants something---

==> No no no. You continue to push those thoughts out of your head; that was  _ before _ . You don’t know what before was, but it’s certainly different from the present. You don’t even know if the Tord you were kissing earlier was the same Tord from years ago.

==> Ugh, this is making your head hurt.

==> You take a giant snort to try and settle the mucus in your nose, but it doesn’t help. You just raise a hand to wipe off your eyes and nose, but it doesn’t stop.

==> Goddamn it. You think yourself as pathetic; why would he ever feel anything deeper for you? He played you like a fiddle; he did it before and he did it today. The way he completely flipped the second he left your present and went back to Edd and Matt… the thought of it makes you sick. What a cruel, two-faced person.

==> Maybe you love him. Maybe that’s why this is ripping you apart from the inside. You really, really don’t want to use  _ love _ in this context, but the mere thought of that word makes your heart skip a beat. But why on  _ earth _ would someone like Tord love someone like you?

==> That thought hits you like a truck, and you quietly sob into the pillow. You don’t know why it’s making you so upset; you hate Tord. You hate him so much. You hate that he crushed Edd’s heart under his foot, you hate that he hurt Matt. You hate that he used  _ you  _ and hurt  _ you _ . God, you hate him so much you just wish you grabbed his hair and bashed his head into the wall before he had a chance to sneak into your room and wait for you. Maybe you should’ve crushed his windpipe when you had your hands around his neck.

==> You let out a labored sigh, most of the noise getting absorbed into the pillow. You wish that you could just stop caring about this, but not caring about what he did to you would also include not caring about what he did to Edd and Matt, and you would never do that to them.

==> This is so, so, so,  _ so hard _ .

==> You finally sit up, wiping the snot and tears from your face onto the sleeve of the hoodie. Ugh, you guess that you can just wash it off later or blame it on you drooling in your sleep. You doubt Matt has the willpower to care right now.

==> Maybe you could have a drink. Just one. Something to take the edge off and sooth your broken and confused heart a little. The thought of getting a drink alone is enough to get you out of your bed and out of your bedroom.

==> Thankfully, Matt and Edd are still asleep. You quietly step over to your fridge, a half empty Smirnoff bottle being the first thing you see. You swipe that shit, opening the lid quicker than the fridge can close.

==> You take a generous gulp, the burn in your throat isn’t bothering you either. You feel a little bit better once the bottle leaves your lips.

_ Maybe I loved him. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rediscovered idfc by blackbear so naturally i produced this  
> its a lil short for my liking but im at that point where i either make a super long chapter or just split it in half  
> i chose. half


	18. the actual eddsworld beach episode except its not really a beach

Matt was the first to step outside. Eduardo greeted him with a nod, inflating one of the kiddie pools that he acquired through unknown means. Edd was behind him, trying to get Tom out of the apartment and into the heat. Yes, despite Tom’s blindness, he still had a stubborn bone in his body. Even through agreeing to show up, he was still going to be a little bitch about it.

It really was hot outside. Matt had sensitive skin, and within minutes he could feel the surface of his shoulders start to burn. Thankfully, he was pretty generous with his sunscreen after the fact, so hopefully it won’t hurt him in any way. He assisted Edd with his sunscreen before passing the bottle to Eduardo and Mark out of courtesy. Tom stood in the shade of a tree not too far from the door back inside. He debated making a run for it, but he knew he wasn’t going to get very far.

Tom didn’t know why he was here. It’s not like he could properly enjoy the occasion; he still can’t see shit and has been emotionally unavailable for much longer. Edd still insisted that  _ maybe _ he could pretend to have a good time for once. Well, he’s there whether he likes it or not.

Tom was in a white t-shirt and a pair of Matt’s swim trunks. Yeah, borrowing Matt’s clothes has turned into a trend, but it wasn’t something Tom minded. Sure, the swim trunks were an obnoxious bright purple, but it’s not like he could see it anyways. The snide remarks from Tword were enough to inform Tom of the severity of how ridiculous he looked, but he didn’t intend on caring either way.

A hand tapping his wrist snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, you alive in there?” It was Eduardo’s voice. “Edd and Matt left to go pick up a few things. You wanna sit down?”

Tom couldn’t help but snicker at Eduardo’s attempt at being polite. Hearing that guy be the least bit pleasant was so out-of-character, he couldn’t hide his expression. “Yeah, lead the way.”

With a huff, Eduardo gripped Tom’s wrist and led him into the sun. The small area of grass had a few inflated kiddie pools, some filled, some not. The one Eduardo had his eyes on had an umbrella stood up above it; a nice protection from the sun.

Gently, Eduardo guided Tom down into the pool. It was filled, the cool water making Tom shiver for a moment before his body relaxed. He sat against one end, knees pointing upward so his feet could rest on the other end. With the cool water and shade, he found it oddly pleasant. He figured this was his spot for the duration of whatever they were doing, and he could deal with this.

Eduardo sat in front of him, the sound of a cap clicking upward getting Tom’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

“Edd said you didn’t have sunscreen on. Thought I’d do something outta the goodness of my heart.” Eduardo squeezed a little sunscreen on his fingers. “That good with you?”

“...Sure.”

Tom was a little unsure of Eduard’s gestures, but going with it would be better than asking questions. He shuddered at the cold fingers starting on his neck and collarbone, but he gradually got used to the sensation.

“So you know that guy’s coming, right?” Eduardo spoke up.

“Tord? Yeah.” Tom huffed, adjusting his head so Eduardo could reach the back of his neck. “He’s been gushing about it all week.”

“Did you say no?”

“No. I couldn’t bring myself to.” Tom sighed. “Did you?”

“...At first. Then I caved.”

“You can at least recognize that Edd has that effect on people.”

“Now I do.” Eduardo drew his hand back to squeeze a little more sunscreen on his fingers. “How can a guy be so easy to bully yet so persuasive?”

“I know as much as you do.” Tom shrugged. “Still, he’s my best friend. I can’t exactly say no to him willy-nilly with all the shit we’ve gone through together.”

“I guess I can understand that.” A flash of Jon’s face appeared in Eduardo’s mind. It made him visibly uncomfortable; thank god Tom can’t see shit. “I’m about to do your face, but… why the fuck are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Matt wanted me to look cool while wearing his trunks.”

Eduardo looked down; yeah, those flashy purple trunks definitely look like something that idiot would wear. “Well, I’m taking them off for a second.”

“Not gonna stop you.”

Eduardo didn’t take them off entirely; he just pushed them up so they rested on the top of Tom’s head. He gently rubbed in the sunscreen on Tom’s face, careful to avoid his bandaged eye sockets or getting any of it in his nose or mouth. “This smells like shit.”

“It smells  _ awful _ . Why are you using this?”

“This is Edd’s. Apparently it’s very good and very expensive, at least according to Matt.”

“And we know he’s basically the kingpin of skincare.”

“Well, you might know that. I’m still new to understanding that you guys don’t just have 2D cardboard personalities.”

Tom couldn’t help but snort. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said about us.”

“Cool. Don’t ever expect it again.”

That made Tom laugh; that was the Eduardo he knew. Snarky, a little rude, a little abrasive but overall not a completely garbage human being. He knew Eduardo could be nice when he wanted to, and Tom could admit that maybe this get-together wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Considering everything that’s happened so far, one little spat between old neighbors could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Tom. Thankfully, that’s not the case right now.

Eduardo, on the other hand, was beaming on the inside since Jon seemed happy about him being even remotely nice to Tom. Sure, Jon did his fair share of bullying Edd and the gang (albeit he wasn’t good at it), but he did genuinely like having those three as neighbors. Being able to see Eduardo pursue healthier platonic relationships was a huge plus.

“Hey guys!”

Edd’s voice snapped Eduardo out of his thoughts. Tom didn’t move his head; he stayed completely still as Eduardo applied the sunscreen on his face.

“Guess who we brought!”

Eduardo’s heart dropped.

Tord, dressed casually, unbuttoned shirt and cargo shorts, standing smugly before Eduardo and Tom, arm wrapped around Edd like any  _ old friend _ would. Eduardo could immediately feel his blood boil but Jon urged him to keep himself together. The smugness of his face was enough to trigger some visceral reaction in Eduardo’s stomach; had he last self-control, he probably would’ve thrown up.

“It’s Tord, isn’t it.” Tom whispered, unphased.

“ _ Yeah _ .”

Well, Tord wasn’t the only person Eduardo was worried about.

Pat stood on Tord’s right side, dressed similarly. Pau was on his left, white t-shirt and shorts to match the other two with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He and Pat both donned amiable smiles, giving small waves as Edd called them out. 

Pau’s expression changed the second he laid eyes on Eduardo. A hint of anger was present in his eyes and it was immediately replaced with that  _ same fake smile _ and a nod. Yeah, that totally didn’t cause Eduardo’s heart to stop or anything. God, why did he say  _ yes _ to inviting Tord? What a stupid fucking idea.

Other courtesies and greetings were exchanged, and Eduardo finally finished with the sunscreen on Tom’s face.

“It’s done. You wanna stand up?” Eduardo asked, already getting himself off the ground.

“I think I’m just gonna chill here.” Tom sounded just a little bit down.

“...I’d stay here, but Mark doesn’t do well around strangers. Or guys who kill his friends.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll be fine here.” Tom lifted a hand to gently shoo him away. “Besides, I kind of need Tord to come to me when I’m alone. I’ve got a few questions for him.”

“...Right. None of my business.”

“Correct.”

That was enough to convince Eduardo that Tom would be fine… not that he’s particularly worried or anything. Besides, he has his own shit to deal with.

Matt had separated himself from Tord and the others; sure, he gave Tord a hug but he didn’t know the other guys. Besides, he wasn’t fully comfortable with Tord yet, and Little Tom wasn’t about to force Matt to do something he didn’t want to. However…

“Are you just going to stare at him all day?” Little Tom asked, standing next to the kiddie pool Matt had situation himself in, lemonade in hand and blush on his face.

“I just might.”

Edd was mingling with Tord as expected, with the occasional side comment from Pau or Pat. Matt was  _ really _ focused on the fact that Edd was topless. Originally he had a shirt on, but the heat was so intense that he had to shed it off. Naturally, this awoke some sort of insatiable demon inside of Matt and he had to contain himself by sitting on a small pool of cold water. Well, that part was Little Tom’s suggestion, and thank god for that.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Tord.” Little Tom squatted down next to Matt.

“I’m not.”

“You don’t ever think that Tord could easily sweep Edd off his feet?”

“Totally not.”

“Hmmm… Matt, I say this as someone who is a part of you. You’re jealous.”

“Shut uuuuuup!” Matt whined, leaning his head back dramatically. “So I’m a  _ little _ jealous. So what?”

“Stupid people in love who also happen to be jealous don’t always make the best decisions?”

“Hey! I’ve been pretty good about not being reckless!” Matt pouted. “I’ve only accidentally popped one in front of him once.”

“That is one time too many…” Little Tom sighed. “You could probably write him a love letter with his name on it and he still wouldn’t get it.”

“I know, it’s so frustrating!”

“Matt. Go up to him.”

“Why would I---”

“No, really. You should go up to him. Be chummy.”

Little Tom’s sudden change in attitude was because… well, he noticed Twom.

Ah, Twom. Fucking bastard of the year. You would think he was only trying to get into Tom’s pants, but Little Tom could tell that he was also letting his eyes fall onto Edd as well. Little Tom doesn’t know for sure if Tord would actually go for it (judging by the vibes that Tword gave off about something going on between Tom and Tord… well, you guys do the math), but it wouldn’t hurt for Matt to divert their attention.

Well, in the middle of Little Tom’s thought process, Matt was already making his way over there and snaking an arm around Edd to be  _ chummy _ . Yeah, chummy, that’s what we’re calling it.

While Matt decided to have a dick measuring competition with Tord, Little Tom turned his focus back to Twom. Twom had finally noticed him, and his smirk was one to remember. He briefly remembered Tword talking about him and how much he hated him. Well, Little Tom was still Matt, and Little Tom likes to give people the benefit of the doubt, so how bad could it be?

Oh.

Nope, Little Tom doesn’t like this.

Before he could even think of what to do, Twom was already next to him and eyeing him up.

“Can I help you?” Little Tom stepped back, causing Twom to grin a little wider.

“I’ve never seen you here before. Not to mention you look like one of Tom’s friends, so I thought I’d say hi.”

“I don’t know… I’ve been told that you’re an interesting person.”

“Interesting?” Twom raised an eyebrow. “Is that what he’s calling me?” Referring to Tword, that is.

“Well, I’ll admit that some  _ other _ words were used… but yeah, I’m going with interesting. Sticking with my story.”

“Oh please, he’s just a wimp.” Twom scoffed, his smirk fading and his posture relaxing. “Literally any mention of me or Tord is enough to send him into a fit.”

“Well, Matt’s on the same boat. He doesn’t like talking to Tord.”

“I can’t really blame him for that one, though.”

“Has Tord ever considered apologizing?” Little Tom figured he might as well ask; who knows, maybe Tord’s got some good in that heart of his.

“He hasn’t considered it until recently. I think Tom drunkenly admitting that Edd doesn’t want him dead awoke something in him. Well, I know that for sure. Tord doesn’t.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Those two sit down and drink together… once or twice a week.” Twom’s smile started to creep back. “Well, Tom does most of the drinking. Tord has to feed him his shots.”

“That’s… not something I’d expect. It’s precious, though.”

“I think it’s hilarious. The amount of shit Tord puts up with drunk Tom doing.”

“This is a new development.” Naturally, Little Tom was interested. The intensity of his curiosity was present on his face.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Twom had to shut that down real quick. “Me and the other guy have established a closed clique of gossiping. You’re invited, but don’t spill.”

“Not even to Matt?”

“Matt can’t keep secrets.”

“...Okay.” Little Tom couldn’t argue against that.

Twom was impressed that Little Tom was so… obedient? Is that the word? He’s a lot easier to deal with compared to Tword, at least. In the few conversations they shared, Twom could say that he likes Tword. He just doesn’t like that Tword, to him, seemed like an uptight, prickish prude that existed purely to shut down his  _ genius _ ideas.

And yeah, Twom wants to fuck him. Of course he wants to fuck Tword. Do you honestly think we’d be sitting here reading this out if Twom  _ didn’t _ want to fuck Tword?

Well, he might want to fuck Edd too. Maybe also Little Tom.

Remember when I said Twom and Tord didn’t deal with their nearly uncontrollable hypersexuality well? I  _ meant _ it.

Speaking of unbearable sexual tension…

Tord had broken away from the small group once Matt had butted in. Sure enough, Tom was sitting by himself in that cute little kiddie pool. He wasted no time making his way over there and sitting right in front of Tom without even uttering a word.

“...Tord.” Tom said quietly.

“What gave it away, Thomas?”

“You reek of cigars. You  _ always _ reek of cigars.”

“Damn, I even wore a clean shirt today.” Well, it’s not like his natural scent was a huge deal anyways. “You don’t sound happy to know I’m here.”

“I only said yes because Edd asked. You’re here because I’m putting up with you. Let’s make that clear.”

“Come on, do not be so hostile.” Tord cooed, a bit mockingly, as he drummed his fingers along the rim of the pool. “I come with good news.”

“You’re dying tomorrow.”

“No.”

“ _ I’m  _ dying tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately, no. Do you want to hear it?”

“You’re not giving me a lot of room to refuse.”

“You don’t really have any to begin with.”

Tom replied with a silent shrug.

“It’s about your eyes.” Tord’s prosthetic hand reached up to move the sunglasses away from Tom’s face, revealing the bandages. “You’ve been keeping these clean.”

“Thank Edd for that.”

“Already have.” One of Tord’s fingers moved to smooth out an edge. “I may have a solution in mind, but it is not final.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I have in mind for you is a prototype. Not the final product I want to bestow onto you, but something that may at least allow you to see again.”

“Heh, to be honest, I thought you forgot about me. I’m almost touched.”

“Never.” Tord moved his hand away, placing both of his hands on his lap. “The prototype is a device that will be attached to your face… similar to a pair of ordinary glasses.”

“And I’ll be able to see.”

“Well, your eyes will be going back into your head, but they will be synced up with the device. If you lose the device, you won’t be able to see.”

Tom assessed his choices; use the prototype and maybe see, or be blind for longer. Hmmm....

“This is not a decision you have to make right now.” Tord continued. “I am merely giving you the good news. And the choice to have another operation, I mean.”

“How long are you giving me?”

“Realistically, as long as you want. If you want a precise deadline… your next appointment in a few days?”

“...Sure.” Tom didn’t even think it would take him long to make the decision to accept it, but he didn’t want to throw Tord a bone so easily.

Tord could sense that mentality, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a little in response. “If you are hesitant because I might kill you, you should ditch that. I’ve already made it clear that I’m not hurting you.”

“Hey, you never know. You’ve done slimier things before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this was supposed to be only One chapter for this section but i am splitting my half chapter into another half  
> is that a quarter? i dunno man i cant read


	19. little tom and matt do some larping

Panning away from everyone else, Eduardo had finally found a semi-secluded spot from all of the action. Unfortunately, Mark excused himself from Eduardo’s company because he wanted to talk to Matt. Naturally, Eduardo was absolutely  _ appalled _ by this, but he let his friend go. He sat by himself, with the exception of Jon hovering around and keeping Eduardo updated on all of the birds he saw.

Eduardo groaned in his half empty can of diet cola. He would be having so much more fun if he had just said  _ no _ to Tord coming along. Better yet, Tord’s fine; Eduardo’s barely said five words to the guy at this point. He was more worried about Pau and his buttbuddy that followed Tord around like shadows. He was too nervous to turn and see if they were still around; another glimpse of Pau was sure to seal his fate.

He took care to turn his head and glance at the rest of the gathering; it seemed like Edd and Matt were mingling with Mark while Tom and Tord sat off to the side. There’s that one guy… where’s Pau?

“Excuse me.” A voice startled Eduardo as he nearly dropped his drink. He turned his head to see Pau, and he felt like his stomach was about to fly out of his mouth.

Eduardo didn’t reply; he only stared.

Meanwhile Pau had a warm, almost familiar smile on his face. “I’m friends with Edd. Have we met before?”

No. No no no. There’s no way; this guy  _ has  _ to be bluffing. “I-- No, don’t think so, I’m---”

Eduardo yelped as Pau’s foot came crashing down on his. Pau wore fucking  _ combat boots _ while Eduardo only had a pair of sandals to protect his toesies.

“First rule. Learn to be a better liar.” Pau’s tone changed to the one that sounded a  _ little  _ more threatening. “Second rule. It’s impolite to stare.”

“Y-You motherfucker…” Eduardo hissed through his teeth, trying to work through the throbbing pain in his foot. He let his drink fall to the ground as he knelt down.

“I didn’t stomp on you that hard. I could break your foot if I wanted to.” Pau tilted his head, leaning down closer to Eduardo. “Did I bruise your windpipe from last time?”

“What the hell do you want??”

“Making sure you’re behaving yourself. Edd gave me a hug when he saw me, so that means you kept quiet. Good job.”

“You threatened to kill me.” Eduardo finally brought himself back up straight. He’ll just have to ignore the pain for now.

“Well? It worked, didn’t it? You didn’t rat me out.” A corner of Pau’s mouth turned up into a smirk. “Guess you’re not as dumb as I thought you were.”

“Is that all you wanted? To suck your own dick in front of me?”

“I finally got a moment away from Re--- Tord, so I thought I’d make my rounds. You were the first one on my list.” Pau shifted his weight on his opposite foot, tapping the cup he held in his hand with his finger. “I also have a proposal for you.”

“So you’re gonna nearly break my foot and then ask me to accept something? You’ve got some nerve, asshole.” Eduardo spat at him. Had his foot been hurting less, he would’ve walked away by now. “What, are you gonna hurt me if I refuse?”

“Okay, you’re  _ a lot _ smarter than I thought.”

“I’m not above public humiliation. I’ll deck you.”

“Good luck trying. You want to hear what I have to say, or not?”

“...If you’re not actually going to give a choice, then get on with it.”

“Good answer.” Pau took care to guide Eduardo a little bit more out of the way of everyone. They only went behind a bush; nothing too special. Pau could see out to the others, but the others couldn’t see him. He let Eduardo sit down to soothe his foot, while he kept standing.

“It’s clear you know a lot. A lot more than you should.”

“Apparently I do, yeah.” Despite Eduardo being fixated on the pain in his foot, he listened to Pau speak.

“You know, I went back to Tord that night. He hit me and called me an idiot for letting you live, let alone letting you see me in the act.”

“You probably deserved the beating.”

“He’s still pretty intent on you being out of the picture.”

Despite Eduardo’s blood running cold, he kept his snarl up. “So, what? You getting my will now or something?”

“Not at all. I’m giving you an opportunity you’d be stupid to refuse.”

“What’s the catch?”

Pau raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking for a catch before I even pitch anything?”

“If I know assholes like you, you’re going to sneak something in under my nose that’ll go against me later. Just tell me the catch.”

“I’m offering you protection from Tord’s wrath… and anything else going on around us. In exchange; your allegiance to Tord.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.”

“You’re being serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

Eduardo’s expression was one of complete disbelief; this guy, this  _ asshole _ has the  _ goddamned audacity _ to offer something so vague in exchange for devoting himself to the guy who killed his friend? Really. Is that what’s happening here? I’m afraid it is.

“You’re fucking with me. There is  _ no way _ you’re offering me of all people that.”

“There are a few incentives in place.” Pau continued. “You joining up with us guarantees protection for your friend as well---” Referring to Mark, that is. “---since I figured he would play a role in your decision.”

“You’re sick.”

“You and Mark would be under our guard. Your livelihood as you know it now will be guaranteed. You’ll be able to remain where you are now; with some of the only people you know as well as you know Mark.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I can’t promise nothing will happen to you in the future.”

“So you’re threatening me again?”

“You can interpret it however you’d like.” Pau shrugged, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. “I’m offering you protection, and hell; you could quit that awful job at that grocery store and come work for us. Tord is taking  _ such  _ good care of Tom lately… you would want that too, right?”

Ugh, of course this creep was keeping tabs on Eduardo. Eduardo would be an idiot to think otherwise. “...How much time are you giving me?”

“As much as you need.” Pau placed the cigarette in his mouth, now rummaging in his pocket for a lighter. “You’re not giving me an outright  _ no _ , which means there’s a possibility that you’ll say yes. I’m giving you a cushion before you come to a decision.”

The conflict in Eduardo’s head was clear in his expression. Pau had backed him into a corner, and now that he was dragging Mark into this made it all the more difficult to refuse. Maybe Eduardo should’ve just kept to himself that night; no, maybe he should’ve just never  _ moved _ to this place and none of this would be happening.

Maybe  _ he _ should’ve died instead of Jon. Things would be so much easier if Eduardo was dead.

“Give me a week.” Eduardo mumbled.

“Hm? Speak up.” Pau leaned down, the freshly lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“I said, give me a week, and I’ll make my decision.”

That was enough to make Pau smirk. “I’ll take it. One week. I’ll come looking for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Eduardo shooed Pau away, finally bringing himself to stand up on his bad foot. “Don’t bother me until then.”

“As you wish. I hope you’ll make the right decision.” Pau stepped aside, turning around to go back to the group. “And… don’t tell Mark about this yet. I’ll know if you do.”

\-----

==> You are now Edd, and it’s getting pretty late.

==> Seeing Tord in person again made you absolutely  _ ecstatic _ ; you couldn’t be happier if you tried. There was even a brief time where the four of you sat down and hashed it out like old times. Sure, Tom was a little quieter, but it felt nice to have Tord back in the picture.

==> However, it’s pretty late now. The kiddie pools have been emptied and any trash has been disposed of. Tord, Pau, and Pat gave their goodbyes not too long ago, leaving you and Matt to guide Tom in. Eduardo and Mark follow behind you, and you all share  _ good nights _ and  _ goodbyes _ before parting ways.

==> Matt went back to his flat, and you gently guided Tom into yours. Thankfully, Tom had enough sense to clean himself in the bathtub so you could tend to yourself at the same time. Taking care of eyeless Tom was sort of like taking care of a giant baby, minus the diapers.

==> You’re brushing your teeth, and Tom is splashing around in the tub below you. You’ll have to change the bandages over his eyes once he’s done in there. For now, Tom’s absolutely living it up. You suspect that he might be stalling since the warmth of the water probably feels nice, but he’ll catch a cold if he stays in there all night.

==> You inform Tom that he should wrap it up soon. He says yeah, he probably should. You listen to some more splashing that you can only assume is Tom getting the soap and suds off himself. A few minutes later, you hear the water begin to drain from the tub.

==> You turn around after finishing washing your mouth out, and you hold back a chuckle. Tom looks like a wet, sad puppy sitting in the freshly drained tub. Wet hair clung his face as he didn’t bother to push it out of the way. You do it for him, helping him stand up and step out of the tub.

==> You give him a towel; Tom’s pretty good at drying himself off, but dressing himself is another thing. You took care to preemptively set up some clothes for him so the transition from bathroom to bedroom was a bit smoother.

==> You hear your phone vibrate from the table in your kitchen. It’ll have to wait a second; you just really want to get Tom to bed. He seems tired, and he could barely keep his head up as you changed the bandages over where his eyes used to be. Now he’s sitting on the edge of your bed as you run a towel through his hair.

==> It makes you smile; his hair has just about grown back since he shaved his head. He’s also gaining a little more weight and has some more color in his face. You hope that’s all an indication that he’s feeling better and getting healthier again. Now that he’s dried as dressed, it’s bedtime.

==> Thankfully you don’t have to go full mother hen mode; Tom can tuck himself in. When he doesn’t feel the shifting weight of you joining him in the bed, he asks you if you’re going to sleep soon. You say yeah, you are, but you wanna do a few things first. He shrugs, and advises you to sleep soon. You say yeah, yeah, you know. It’ll only be a few minutes.

==> Once you’re sure that Tom’s dozing off, you quietly step out of your room and shut the door behind you. Now it’s time to see who’s been blowing up your phone.

==> Same procedure as before; you will be  _ italicized _ , the other person will be  **bold** .

**Edd!!!** **  
** **Edd eddeddd Eddd Edd Edd**

_ i’m here matt, what’s up? _

_ i was putting tom to bed _

**I just wanted to tell you I had a good time today!**

**Even though it was Eduardo’s idea mostly and not entirely yours.**

**But I don’t have Eduardo’s number so I figured I would text you and you tell him!**

_ err, sure! _

_ yeah i can do that! _

_ i have his number but i’ll text him when it’s NOT in the middle of the night _

**Yeah I wouldn’t want to get a text in the middle of the night either!**

**Are you sleeping soon?**

_ yeah but you were blowing up my phone so i thought it was something urgent _

_ not saying that you’re not important matt! _

_ you’re one of my best friends so you’re always important! _

**Aw :)**

**You’re one of the most important people to me Edd!**

**And Tom too but he can’t text so you’re my delivery boy for my proclamations of love.**

**SO tell him I love him.**

_ you want me to give him a quick kiss on the cheek too? _

**Yes please.**

_ lol _

_ good night matt _

_ get some sleep soon!!! _

\---------

“Are you kidding me right now?” Little Tom dragged his hands down his face, leaning against a wall as Matt finally put his phone down. “You can casually tell Tom you would die for him, but for Edd it’s a no-go?”

“It’s  _ different _ , okay??” Matt groaned.

“You’re not in love with Tom, right?”

“Of course not! Well, I’m not saying I’m  _ disgusted _ by the idea, but---”

“You don’t want Tom to bone you.”

“N-No… why did you have to say it like that?”

“Matt. I’m literally you. I know what you think about.  _ All the time _ .” Little Tom stood up straight. “The intensity of how clogged up your thoughts are of sexual fantasies is enough to make a teenage boy look like a prude.”

“I know…” Matt sighed, standing up to head for his bedroom; the face routine was done with, so he might as well settle down for sleep. “Had an opportunity today and blew it.”

“As always.” Little Tom followed behind Matt. “You’re not completely hopeless, okay? It’s not like Edd’s in love with someone else--- he’d make it more obvious.”

“I guess so.” Matt sat down on the bed. “Edd’s totally oblivious, but… I’m a nervous wreck.”

“I may have a suggestion that could help?” Little Tom offered. “But I’ll need you to close your eyes.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Just shut up and close your eyes, Matt.”

Matt complied, shutting his eyes as well as slapping his hands over his face for good measure. After a few minutes of silence, Little Tom gave him the okay to open up. “Alright, open your eyes.”

Matt’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Wh--- Edd, what are you doing here???? How did--- What did---?”

“ _ No _ , it’s still me! Little Tom! I just look a little… different!” You could take this as symbolism that Matt has finally found someone he loves more than himself, therefore Little Tom’s appearance alters, but we’re going to interpret it as Matt being super horny. And yes, he is super horny.

Little Tom took the form of Edd; a little shorter than Matt, green hoodie,  _ everything _ . With Matt sitting on the bed, Little Tom towered over him. Matt could feel himself getting increasingly nervous as he eyed Little Tom up. The asshole took every detail of Edd’s appearance and manifested into it almost perfectly; wide, huggable torso with a smile that made Matt’s insides melt.

“L-Little Tom, I’m---”

“Don’t shoot me down just yet!” God, Little Tom even managed to get Edd’s voice right. “We’re gonna… we’re gonna do a little roleplaying. Maybe some practice will help?”

“Role… roleplaying?”

“Yeah, like… I’ll be Edd, and you’ll be yourself.” Little Tom moved to sit beside Matt on the bed. “I’m not  _ the _ Edd, but I’m pretty close. Just try it.”

Matt sighed. “Alright.”

“Okay, so setting the scene…” Little Tom thought for a moment. “Okay, let’s just make it simple. I’m Edd, you’re you. We’re sitting down, hanging out. Nothing special.”

Matt swallowed. “Alright… hey, Edd?”

Little Tom raised his eyebrows, taking on Edd’s excited face. “Hey Matt? What’s up?”

“I’m… uh, have I ever told you I like you?” Matt just had to pull something out of his ass; Jesus Christ, he couldn’t physically handle how much Little Tom could get right about Edd.

“Like me? I like you too.” Little Tom smiled. “Like a lot, you know? You’re one of my best friends, after all.”

“Yeah, but… no, I mean it in a different way.”

“You love me? Because I love you too.”

Oh my god, this is frustrating. “No--- I mean, yeah, Edd, I love you. A lot!”

“But not as much as you love yourself, right?” Little Tom leaned back, resting his weight on his elbows.

“No--- I mean, yes? Edd, just listen!”

“I  _ am  _ listening!”

“Edd, I love you!” Matt was starting to get annoyed.

“I love you too, Matt!” Little Tom matched Matt’s intensity.

“No, you dense idiot! I am  _ in love _ with you!” Matt’s volume went up exponentially. “I’ve  _ always _ loved you! So much! I can’t stand it! Tom calls me an idiot but look at you! I’ve been telling you I love you for years and you never put the pieces together!!!!”

Little Tom was genuinely surprised; well, playing off ‘Edd’s’ surprise, but also surprised that Matt was even able to raise his voice that high. “Matt, I’m…”

“And  _ yes _ , I’m being serious.” Matt continued. “I’d break every mirror in my apartment for you, Edd. The fact that you can’t notice how much I’m smoldering over you literally kills me inside!”

“Matt---”

“Just… just tell me you know what I’m talking about.” Matt began to quiet down, the exhaustion clear in his voice. “Tell me you know what I mean.”

“I… I know what you mean.” Little Tom stuttered, some blush appearing on his cheeks. “I love you too, Matt.”

“...You do?”

“Yeah! I do. Like, in the way you just went about it. But can we take it slow?”

“Ye… Yeah, we can.” Matt’s sudden burst of confidence began to dwindle. His face reddened thinking about what the  _ hell _ he just admitted to… well, technically himself. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said all that.”

“No, no! This is good!” Little Tom broke character trying to reassure Matt. “Granted, I can’t really predict what his reaction would be, but… you were finally straightforward about it for once.”

“Y-Yeah, I guess so.”

“Now all you have to do is… well, admit it to the real deal, I guess.”

“You’ll help me with that, right?”

“Seriously? Of course I will.” Little Tom smiled at Matt, sitting back up. “I’ll help you until you don’t need it anymore.”

“Thank you.” Matt attempted to return the smile. “But… can I ask you for one favor?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Can you… Can I… Can I kiss you? You know, while you still look like…” Little Tom couldn’t help but chuckle at Matt’s shy request.

“Sure, Matt.”

Little Tom’s hands moved to cup Matt’s face. He took a moment before gently pushing their lips together. The second they made contact, Matt’s hands were immediately on Little Tom’s sides. Matt couldn’t help himself; the fine details that Little Tom paid attention to… down to the hint of cologne and cola smell that always wafted from Edd’s hoodie.

Little Tom’s eyes opened slightly; oh boy.

He pulled away, leaving Matt to bask in his own hot mess of emotions. “Why’d you stop?”

Little Tom pointed downward. “You’re not very good at keeping yourself composed.”

“What do you-- Oh!” Matt immediately slapped a hand over his crotch. “Sorry, I just--- Ugh, why am I apologizing? You already know why.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Let me just go to sleep, I’ll just sleep it off---”

“ _ Wait _ .” Little Tom placed a hand on Matt’s thigh, making him freeze up completely. “If I’m going to have to flaunt around and tease you in this form for however many weeks from now, the least I can do is help you out.”

“But you’re already helping me---”

“No. I mean in a different way. Just lay down, head on pillows.”

Confused, Matt followed instructions. Little Tom moved so his head was in between Matt’s legs. Matt was only wearing his undies for now, so it made it easier for Little Tom to get busy.

“W-Wait, Little Tom, you don’t---”

“Matt, just shut up.”

Little Tom pulled on the hem of Matt’s boxers, pulling them down to reveal Matt’s  _ very hard cock.  _ Yes, I have to emphasize this, because Matt’s been rock solid since this whole ordeal began. Seeing Edd awakens some weird sexy demon within Matt, and its name is Little Tom.

Oooh, maybe I should change the name to Little Twom instead. Not the character development I was expecting to run into, but the option is there.

Little Tom made sure to keep eye contact as he played with the head in his mouth. Matt was already shaking and grabbing Little Tom’s hair with his hand. He couldn’t help himself; sure, he’s technically just fantasizing right now, but the fact that it felt even more vivid than before… of course he was going to get excited. His thoughts were interrupted when Little Tom sunk down a little, humming along the length as he moved his head.

Matt had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t  _ really  _ Edd. His expectations shouldn’t be this high, but… Little Tom knew Matt was extremely pent up. Helping Matt out like this wouldn’t be too harmful; after all, Matt wasn’t Tord.

Matt’s hips bucked upward into Little Tom’s mouth, but he wasn’t perturbed by the sudden pressure on his throat. He could hear Matt mumbling  _ Edd _ under his breath and yes, that’s what he wanted. Think about Edd in this instance; perhaps the potential promise of being able to share something so warm and intimate will motivate Matt to finally take his head out of his own ass.

Little Tom also took care to graze his teeth along the shaft; of course he knew what Matt liked. He would be doing even more than what he was doing now, but Matt needed to sleep. He could feel that Matt was genuinely exhausted from today, but Little Tom wanted to do at least this much for him.

Matt suddenly finishing down Little Tom’s throat didn’t phase him. If anything, it was probably for the best for it to be a surprise. When Little Tom finally lifted his head up, he made it a point to open his mouth for Matt, making a show before showing that he  _ swallowed _ it.

“Oh my god, stop stop stop STOP---” Matt used his hands to cover his burning face. “You’re so  _ embarrassing _ , I’m gonna die.”

“I’m only showing you what you want to see.” Little Tom tapped his fingers along Matt’s hip bone.

“Stop saying that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o yeah  
> working on actually making a playlist for this fic
> 
> like a playlist thats like chopped up like 'okay this section is for THIS set of chapter(s) and etc.'
> 
> ill make a post on tumblr about it in a few days maybe  
> if you have any song recs,,,,,, i appreciate them  
> tumblr is nyanhart in case u forgot,,,,,


	20. eenie meenie minie moe catch a tiger by the toe if he hollers squeeze him harder

==> You are now Pau.

==> You’re going about your normal routine.

==> As in, you’re sitting in an empty tub with a bottle of whiskey and cigarette, eager to bitch about how things have been. Bitch about how you should’ve just  _ killed _ that guy instead of inviting his allegiance to Tord. God, you’re so soft giving a guy like that the  _ easy way out _ .

==> Unfortunately for you, Pat is absent. For once, he’s sent off doing other things that don’t include babysitting Tom. It was a one-man mission, so you were given the day off. It’s neat and all; you did some much needed housekeeping and cleaning, but you can only wipe the same spot on the countertop so many times before you start losing your mind.

==> At this point, about two weeks have passed since the party. You had given Eduardo a week to decide, and he asked for another week. You were feeling particularly generous, so you gave him  _ two  _ extra weeks. That’s three whole weeks altogether; three more weeks of mercy than Tord would’ve offered, you reckon. Still, you gave it to him. Perhaps you feel a little bit bad about almost breaking his foot.

==> Tom’s preparations for his next operation have been going surprisingly smooth. Tom being cooperative is a rare sight, but you suppose it’s because he’s so eager to be able to see again. You have to imagine that having to be joined at the hip with Edd for over half a year would start to get old eventually. Finally being able to go back to his own flat, own privacy, own bed… okay, you can understand his excitement.

==> Tord’s been a little less chaotic than usual with Tom’s surprising cooperation with his methods. His suddenly low frequency of impulsive decisions is something you’ve picked up on by now, but it doesn’t seem to be caused by anything negative. Tord almost seems… calmer lately? You didn’t ever think that you could use Tord and ‘calm’ in the same sentence. That man knows no peace, in no era of his life. There’s always something.

==> You’ve known him longer than one might assume, and Pat is right there with you on that. Tord’s been through a lot; dare you say that seeing him a little less on edge strikes a little relief in your chest. But only a little.

==> Your reflection is distorted on the surface of the half empty bottle of whiskey. You’ve been sipping at it for a number of hours, but you don’t even feel yourself getting tipsy. It feels weird to actually be able to press your feet to the end of the tub, as opposed to crossing your legs over Pat’s to ensure you both had room. It feels a little lonely; sure, Pat annoys the shit out of you with some of his super specific habits and the slightly  _ different _ ways he did things from you, but he’s your friend. Maybe even your best friend? You haven’t been friends with someone long enough to know when that applies.

==> Huh. You’re a lonely guy today, aren’t you?

==> You slump a little, your head pressing on the edge of the tub as you sigh. It’s already pretty late, and Pat isn’t expected to be back until at least tomorrow. Maybe you should go to sleep? You haven’t had a full night’s sleep in a while.

==> Well, you begin to stand up from the tub, hand pressed against the wall as you center yourself.

==> And, conveniently, the whiskey starts to hit.

==> You’re crashing down like a tree in the middle of the woods. You manage to shield your head with your arm as you fall out of the tub and onto the floor. The bottle doesn’t shatter, only drops and rolls away from you. That part is probably for the best.

==> You fight a forming pout on your face as you scramble to get yourself off the floor; normally Pat would be here to help you out, but he’s not. You just couldn’t help but feel so  _ weird _ being away from Pat for an extended period of time, after spending over a decade stuck to each other like glue.  _ Ugh, this sucks _ .

==> Once you’re back on your feet, you don’t waste any time stumbling and tripping to your bed. Your arm is still throbbing from the impact, but you manage to ignore it long enough to crash-land onto your bed.

==> Pat’s bed is next to yours; neatly made up and untouched since this morning. Tord said that you two sleeping in the same room would ensure you had each other’s back, and you agreed. But Pat being gone… perhaps you could say you feel a little vulnerable.

==> Oh, who the hell knows. The only thing you know for sure is that you’re exhausted and drunker than you thought. It’s about time for you to pass out.

==> And normally, this would be a great time for you to sleep. And you do sleep! You can’t really measure how much since you’re… you know, asleep, but you do sleep. But when you’re forced awake, it doesn’t feel like a whole lot in the great scheme of things.

==> Ah, right. I said  _ forced _ .

_ Wake up _ .

==> Tord is sitting at your bedside; from the looks of it, he just rolled out of bed as well. He didn’t even have an eyepatch in, let alone anything else covering him aside from his undies and a sweatshirt. It’s been a while since you caught a glance of his dead eye; glazed over and lazy, iris almost completely clouded in however many blood clots existed within the damn thing, and always slightly more closed than the other. He looks like he’s a hemorrhage or two away from having a stroke.

==> Tord is definitely deformed, but you know he doesn’t let his appearance bother him, with or without the eyepatch. It doesn’t bother you either.

==> ...Did you think his eye was completely black? Or just removed entirely? Please, I’m so much more creative than that. Come on now.

==> You focus your vision on Tord, slowly trying to bring yourself up so you could sit up to his level. Your head hurts a little and you’re still a bit dizzy, but for the most part you’re okay. He asks you if you’re finally awake, and you shrug;  _ probably _ . He returns your shrug with one of his own.

==> He tells you that Tom’s next operation is coming up. Ah, you figured it would have been coming up pretty soon, right? Tord nods and says that it should be within the next two or so weeks if everything is smooth. The recovery period shouldn’t be as brutal as the first one; if anything, he should be up and moving around on his own within a day after everything’s settled.

==> Your eyes move to the window in thought. You ask Tord if that means he’ll finally be able to be put to work. Tord looks at you, quite uncomfortably, before nodding and reverting back to a neutral expression.

==> You can’t help but let a single pulse of worry reverberate through your body. Tord is not typically uncomfortable; if anything, he’s the one making people uncomfortable. You wonder quietly what you said to even get that expression to appear on his face in the first place.

\-----

==> You’re now Edd, but at the grocery store with your super good pal Matt. Gosh, you love Matt.

==> You figure since Tom is going to be going back to his own place soon, you should probably try to help his home feel like a home again. You’re buying simple necessities such as cleaning supplies, non-perishable foods… and  _ yeah _ , you guess you might’ve slipped a bottle or two of Smirnoff in the cart. Just because you’re such a nice and charitable friend.

==> Of course, you’ll let Tom do most of the shopping himself when he’s up to it. In the meantime, he’s with Tord or Pau or  _ whoever _ for another appointment. It almost feels like he spends more time in their company than at home, and perhaps it makes you feel a little jealous.

==> Matt tags along beside you. You two share the occasional banter but for the most part it’s a quiet trip. Come to think of it, it’s a little uncharacteristic of Matt to be so quiet around you. Normally you have to struggle with him to get him to shut up; now he’s not even putting up a fight.

==> You turn to him as you’re both walking down the freezer aisle. You ask him if he’s feeling okay. Matt raises an eyebrow and asks you what even brings that up. You shrug;  _ you just seem… I dunno, off _ ? Matt plays it off that he’s tired, and you suppose you can’t blame him; it seems like every time there’s a moment of peace, something else catastrophically obstructive pops into your life and it’s just another 3 cans of worms to open from there.

==> Matt returns the question and asks how you’re doing. You smile and tell him that you just hope things calm down once Tom’s off the operating table again. Matt chuckles; he hopes so too, for everyone’s sake.

==> Hmmm… well, normally you take what Matt says at face value. Yeah, he can be a bit stupid sometimes, but he’s also very open and blunt with what he wants to say. However, in this instance, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding something. While you love your friend and wanna help him out, perhaps the grocery store isn’t the best place for a soul-searching conversation.

==> The silence between you two resumes as you swing around a corner to grab some cat food. Yeah, something is definitely off about him.

==> Honestly, the only person that seems to be moderately okay is Tord, and you don’t quite recognize that your grasp on the present Tord shouldn’t be the same as the past Tord. Tord’s still one of your best friends; you’ve managed to let bygones be bygones despite the struggling you went through to come to terms with it. However… you still need to realize that Tord isn’t the same anymore.

==> The warmth of his hugs definitely swooned you and won you over back into the honeymoon phase of friendship, but sooner or later you’ll have to see Tord’s true colors.

==> ...Which is not to say he doesn’t love you or anything; he just might have a weird way of showing it.

==> The self-checkout area is the only part of the grocery store that even gives off the illusion of supporting life. The shelves are stocked pretty generously, but barely anyone was walking around. You don’t even recall seeing any employees lurking around as you shopped. Still, you kept glancing around as you scanned yourself out; not even one person came to greet you, let alone an employee to check on you.

==> Hell, you could probably loot the place if you’re feeling particularly feisty, but you’ll pass for now. You hit your looting quota with Eduardo with those air conditioning units.

==> You and Matt split the grocery load between you; it’s just easier to head to the car without the additional annoyance of a shopping cart. Aside from a few words exchanged between bagging your stuff and carrying it out, you and Matt are still basking in an awkward silence.

\------

“Ahh…”

A groan came from the hospital bed. Seems like the anesthetics were finally wearing off for our friend Tom. Another time skip? In the same chapter? Listen, this slowburn is torture, and I’m running out of ideas for this particular arc. So deal with it.

He let out another noise before trying to move his head. Thick bandages were wrapped around it, something cold and hard pressed against his face under all the layers. His head felt heavy; both from the bandages and from a dull headache.

Tom gave up; the pillow was comfy enough to almost lull Tom back to sleep. He had a few memories from before waking up; talking to Tord about this  _ new operation _ , the hope to finally have working eyes again… and not much else after that. He remembered getting really, really sleepy, though…

Huh. He might just nod off again.

Maybe…

Maybe…

Maybe…

“How are you feeling?”

Tword’s voice interrupted any ideas that Tom had of getting more sleep. He stirred a little, lifting his arms up to stretch.

“Fuzzy.” Tom responded.

“From what I could observe, there were not any complications.” Tword sounded a little relieved. Tom could hear Tword get up from what he was sitting on to approach the bed. “I cannot tell you if you can surely see again or not, but my hopes are high.”

“Me too.”

“...You do not sound thrilled. What’s wrong?”

“What happens after this?” Tom’s expression under all of the bandages was a little strained.

“With?”

“Everything. I had a different plan for all of this.”

“Last I checked, you did not have much of a plan.” Tword shared a dry chuckle. “You planned on never seeing Tord again.”

“Or just killing him.”

“That was more unattainable at the time.”

“And I could do it---”

“Tom, you won’t.”

“What do you mean I won’t? I could totally do it.”

“Thomas.” Tword adopted the familiar use of his name. “Perhaps if we were a few years earlier, I think you could have the potential to do it. I don’t think you do now.”

Tom sighed. “I got weaker, didn’t I.”

“Weakness is not what I would use to describe what you have inside of you.”

“What is it, then?”

“You know what it is.” Tword turned to look out the window beyond Tom’s bed. “You just won’t say it.”

Tom grit his teeth, but then let out another sigh of defeat.

“...You know what it is, Thomas.” Tword repeated, turning his head back to Tom.

“I know.” Tom spoke quietly, his voice growing hoarse as he held back his emotions. “He’ll leave again---”

“And go where? If anything, he cannot seem to stay away from you even if he wanted to.”

“You know that Tord’s a man of many ulterior motives. Who knows what he has planned for me.”

“Then why did you not decline his help?”

“...I was cornered.”

“He would have let you say no.”

“He would’ve hurt my friends.”

“We both know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Edd or Matt, even if he had threatened to.”

Tom stirred. “...Why are you still hanging onto this?”

Tword shrugged. “Part of you wants me to keep pressuring you, I guess.”

“I thought  _ you _ were a part of me.”

“I am. I meant another part.”

“Ugh.”

“I promise it is not as difficult as you are making it out to be.” Tword assured. “You will say it one day. You have said it before.”

“That was a long time ago. I was emotional and drowning in my own snot and tears and still  _ processing _ that whole ordeal.”

“And here you are now; emotional, processing the trauma to your eyes, and sitting with me as opposed to being by yourself.”

“Sitting with you is pretty much sitting by myself.”

“To most people, sure.”

Tom sighed once again, but there was a little bit of strain to his breath that was enough to get Tword’s attention. “I think I still love him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you think he loves me?”

Tword thought for a moment. “...I cannot give an absolute answer, but… you would have to be an idiot to think that there wasn’t anything there. Past experiences like that do not fade without impact.”

“Guess you’re right.”

“Though… did you ever tell him you loved him?”

Tom thought for a moment, folding his hands on top of each other on his chest. “Not directly.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think… you still could now, even directly.”

“I could. I think I will.”


	21. we get salty

So therefore, it calls for celebration.

It was Tord’s idea for all 4 of them to go out for drinks in recognition of Tom’s successful operation. No complications or hiccups; Tord had entered the room, removed Tom’s bandages, and a miracle really happened. A little anticlimactic for the nature of this story, but we’ll take it! It’ll make Tom a lot easier to write.

Tom was grateful on the inside; he gave the first genuine smile he formed in months to  _ Tord  _ of all people. There wasn’t love, but oodles of gratitude and relief. Tord could pick up on this, and he took Tom’s silent smiles and mumbles as a thank you. He knew how Tom was when it came to being particularly wordy, especially with someone he had a track record with.

Tord didn’t let Tom drive home; Tom was going to need at least a week to adjust to his new sense, as well as to make sure his body didn’t reject any additional installments Tord had added. He happily drove Tom home, delivered the good news to Edd and Matt, and gave a  _ very _ wordy care plan to make sure Tom wouldn’t break anything or accidentally electrocute himself.

It’s been a few weeks since then. Summer’s finally climbing down the boiling point it remained at for so long. Those excess air conditioning units split between Eduardo and Edd are starting to sound a little silly now.

Twom found himself stalking behind Tord like a cat in heat; he almost vibrated from the amount of thoughts running through Tord’s head at any given time. Tom had his sight back, and so the first seed was planted. Of course Twom knew what Tord wanted to do next, and hell, perhaps he was being a bit pushy to get Tord to move along. And yet Tord just wanted to appreciate the bit of peace he’ll have knowing that he won’t wake up one day to Tom not being around anymore.

_ Ohhhh, I get it. If he died, you’d be sad _ , Twom would comment.

_ Shut up _ , Tord would say.

Tword on the other hand was just relieved that Tom could take care of himself again. He knew Tom was on a mental decline already, but being rendered helpless for as long as he was didn’t improve that. Tom almost seemed happier; in a weird way, that made Tword happy. Did he still think Tom was an idiot? Absolutely. You’d have to be an idiot to not think Tom’s an idiot, idiot.

Though, Tword couldn’t say he agreed on the idea of going out for drinks tonight.

Which brings us back to current events, or at least as current as you can get as a narrative with no distinct timeline.

Tord hosted, therefore he picked out the bar. It was more of an upper class bar, but not too fancy that 4 knuckleheads couldn’t go in there and get plastered. It was just fancy enough for Tord to have a reputation. You know what they say about reputation; well, no one cares about your reputation if they’re drunk, but free drinks!

Edd wasn’t much of a drinker; he’ll get one, max, live off cola for the rest of the night and be the designated driver. Matt drank a little; he mostly liked the fruity drinks or the seltzers. Tom was the heaviest and mostly dabbled in vodka, but also appreciated liquor. Tord didn’t drink often, but when he  _ did  _ drink, it only spelled trouble.

The four of them took up a table in the middle of the smaller clusters of other patrons and tables. A band played on stage with some music no one cared to recognize, but it added to the atmosphere. Tord seemed unusually jovial, but Edd and Matt took it as him just being happy that this obstacle in their lives was finally put to rest. Tom was understandably skeptical; his new lenses that he couldn’t remove off his face would squint at Tord in passing. But as he kept drinking… he got a little looser.

Edd stopped drinking first. Matt still drank a little; he was tipsy. Tipsy enough to heed Little Tom’s advice and jokingly invite Edd to dance. Of course, neither he nor Little Tom expected Edd to actually say yes. The music became a bit more upbeat; the crew switched from a live band to a DJ with some well known bops keeping the energy up. They had no particular method or rhythm; Matt was doing most of the work (albeit a little sloppy), and Edd was just happy to be dancing with his friend.

Tord watched in amusement; god, he missed these idiots so much.

Tom took another shot. He lost count of how many he had so far; besides, Tord didn’t put him on an alcohol limit, so he could drink as much as he wanted. Tword gave up trying to tell Tom to pace himself, and could only watch the horrorshow awaiting to take place.

“Hey,  _ commie _ .” Tom sneered, words a little slurred as his fingers tapped the table. “Why’re you bein’ so generous lately, huh?”

“Is that not allowed?” Tord wasn’t nearly as gone as Tom at this point, but he was trailing close behind. “Just let me do something nice for once, Thomas!”

“Eh-ver-ree-time you do  _ nice shit _ , I get fucked over.”

“Not true. You can see again, can you not?”   
  


“ _ Not  _ what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then.” Tord rested his chin on his head, waiting for Tom to answer. “And don’t you dare dig up old skele--”

“You  _ fucked _ me!” And Tom says this… a little  _ loud _ for someone who’s trying to keep this a secret.

“Oh my god, Thomas. Shut up. Shut up right now.” Tord’s robotic hand moved to place two fingers over Tom’s lips. “Tom, I know it’s loud in here, but we can’t talk about this no--”

“ _ Fuck you _ . My names Tord, and I turn myself into some  _ chick _ and fuck people without tellin’ ‘em! Ooooh, I’m such a  _ big fucking weirdo _ with my hentai fanta---”

Tord slapped the same hand over Tom’s mouth. “Tom. Really. Do not do this now.”

“Mmmhmhm!” Tom yanked his head away, feeling his center of gravity shift as his chair tipped back. “You know how fucked you are? You go… you go and do  _ that _ . After all the shit we did  _ before??? _ ”

“Tom---” Oh god, Tord wasn’t going to be able to deal with this peacefully. “I can’t tell if you are genuinely upset, or just trying to rile me.”

“And what if I am, huh? You gonna beat me up, tough guy?” Tom scooted his chair back and stood up, his stance a little wobbly. “I  _ can’t fucking stand you _ .”

“What are you going to do then? Leave??” Tord stood up after him. “You’re drunk out of your fucking mind! You’ll walk into traffic and get more fucked up than you already are!”

“Maybe I  _ want _ that, you asshole!” Tom’s volume only increased. “You  _ never _ asked about what I wanted in this situation!”

Thankfully, the music is getting loud enough to drown out their arguments. Edd and Matt had situated themselves at a separate table on a different side of the bar, completely unaware of what was unfolding between their friends.

Tord, however, was left speechless at the accusation. Was it true? Uhm, yeah? Have we been reading the same story here?

But was Tord going to admit Tom was right? Over his dead fucking body.

“I  _ knew _ what you wanted!”

“No, you didn’t!” Tom’s hands moved to grip the table to keep himself upright. “If you knew what I wanted, you would’ve stayed outta my life!”

Before Tord could respond, Tom pushed the table between them aside. The empty glasses fell to the floor, broken glass scattering as their leftover drinks spread across the floor. The table slammed against the ground, knocking over another two empty tables before finally stopping. Tord’s head whipped around to the mess Tom made, and back at Tom’s snarling face.

“Are you nuts? Tom!”

“Fuck you.” Tom still spoke loudly, but his words were solid. “Just… fuck you, Tord.”

Thankfully, the activity of the bar left  _ most _ patrons unaware of what was unfolding. A few glanced over at the table and the path of destruction it led. Tom felt a low growl in his stomach; no, not from hunger, but from something… angrier.

“Tom. Look. We can go outside and talk about this.” Tord still tried to save face, cautiously approaching Tom. “Let’s not do this on a night that is supposed to be ha--”

“If you touch me, I  _ will _ kill you.”

Tord sighed. “Tom, you are not going to do that.”

Tom took that as Tord  _ telling  _ him not to do that, as opposed to being reassuring. That only made him angrier. “I’m…  _ serious _ .”

Tom was still drunk; absolutely fucking hammered beyond belief and it’s genuinely surprising that he’s managed to stand on his own for this long already. However, something was festering inside of him that he wasn’t immediately aware of. Tword could sense it; his head whipped over from what he was doing only to be met by the tense atmosphere around Tom’s body. Tword was sensitive to any sort of changes to Tom’s body, almost to the point where Tom would have to shut him up about his bitching. But this time… it was something that not even Tword could pinpoint.

Tord saw the rage in Tom’s eyes, but if there’s one thing Tord’s really good (and really bad) at, it’s not quitting while he’s ahead.

“Thomas, come on.” Tord’s voice softened, a hand reaching out to touch Tom’s shoulder. “Let’s not fight he---”

Quicker than Tord could even complete his thought, Tom’s fist had moved right to Tord’s face. Despite his imbalance, he had alcoholic strength on his side tonight. Tord’s hand left Tom’s shoulder as he stumbled backwards, completely caught off guard by the action. It was on Tord’s good side, so it didn’t fuck with his eyepatch or anything, but the fury was still there.

Tord finally managed to catch himself, only to look up at the intensely glaring Tom. His fist was shaking from the impact, his stance was a little crooked, but he was still upright.

Tord’s immediate reaction? To tackle him, of course.

The impact of Tord’s body on Tom’s resulted in the two of them knocking over a few more tables. Any wire in Tord’s brain snapped in that moment; at this point, he couldn’t tell if his mission was to calm Tom down and de-escalate or to just beat him to a pulp. His hands moved to Tom’s neck despite his struggling, taking any cheap hits or slaps Tom could get on him. Tord’s face was throbbing in pain, but he managed to ignore it for the sole purpose of  _ cutting off Tom’s air supply _ .

And yet something appeared in his mind telling him to let go. And he did.

And Tom kicked Tord off him, immediately landing another punch to his stomach before they both started swinging at each other. A writing mess of limbs on the bar floor, covered in sticky booze and shards of glass definitely cutting into both of them.

“Do you think we should stop them?” Panning away, Twom leaned against the bar, drinking some weird concoction of whatever his little brain ghost spirit could conjure up as a drink.

“I…” Tword paused. He wasn’t sure what to think. Some twisted chaotic energy was hitting him and it was apparent on his face. “...Can we?”

“No.” Twom shook his head. “There’s only so much we can do. Let’s just watch the show unfold.”

“God, I’d hate to be you guys.” Little Tom was also with them; sure, it was a little confusing that he was presenting as Edd now, but Twom and Tword could get used to it. “I think Matt’s gonna hit it off tonight finally.”

“Ha! I bet he will.” Twom smirked.

“Hey, at least Matt isn’t trying to  _ kill _ someone.”

“Oh my god, you two have the whole trees up your asses, I swear.” Twom sighed, lowering his drink from his mouth. “They’re not gonna kill each other. Just roughhouse a little bit.”

“In front of a bar full of people? Over broken glass?” Tword turned to him. “There has to be something we can do here.”

“There isn’t, honey.” Twom shrugged.

Little Tom squinted at the two of them, before turning back to Matt. “Well, if you two can’t do something…”

“Dude, no.” Twom raised his eyebrows. “This isn’t your dumpster fire to deal with. Let Matt be.”

“I can’t do that though! Tom and Tord are my friends just as much as their Matt’s! I can’t do that to them!” Little Tom stomped his foot, turning away from Twom and Tword completely. “I’m going to have to do it subtly… but I’ll make it known that there’s something wrong.”

“...Go do it.” Tword finally spoke. “I want to do something about it no matter what this asshole-” Tword points to Twom. “-says. Please.”

“I’m going.” Little Tom turned his head, showing a little smile of reassurance before navigating to Matt and Edd.

Being a brain ghost, it’s pretty easy for one to weave through the crowds of people gathered to watch two idiots beat the shit out of each other. He found Edd and Matt without much effort, as they were secluded and not fully aware of what was going on around them.

Little Tom peeked up from behind Edd. Edd couldn’t see him, but Matt’s expression quickly turned to confusion when he started seeing double.

_ Matt… we have a p-r-o-b-l-e-m _ . Little Tom tried his best to whisper loudly enough that Matt could hear him.

“Uhhh, hey Edd?” Matt looked at the real Edd, who was still smiling in his direction.

“Yeah?” Edd raised an eyebrow, sipping a new glass of cola he obtained sometime ago.

“We have a… p-r-o-b-l-e-m?”

Little Tom facepalmed.

“...A problem?” Edd lowered his glass. “What’s wrong?”

_ Tom and Tord. _ Little Tom points in the other direction where a crowd of people were surrounding them.  **_Tom and Tord!_ **

“Uhm… ah… Tim and Todd? Yeah, them.”

_ Oh my god, Matt!!! _

“You mean… Tom and Tord?”

“Yeah!” Matt perked up.

“What, do you think they’re bickering some more?” Edd chuckled. “Look, we can go check on them if it’ll make you feel be---”

Edd’s sentence was never finished. He turned his head towards the crowd, blood immediately going cold as he realized what Matt was trying to tell him. Without even saying a word, he sprung into action, pushing through the crowd and furniture sprung about as Matt tailed him.

Sure enough, Tom and Tord were all over each other. The blood from their own hits and the fact that they were fighting on  _ shattered fucking glass _ clearly wasn’t enough concern for someone to try and break it up. The building was full of people just as hammered if not  _ more _ than these two; of course they wanna kick back and watch a good fight.

Edd finally managed to get himself and Matt to the inside of the mob.

“Tom! Tord! What are you doing?!” Edd tried to yell over the crowd, the music, the utter chaos that unfolded in front of them. Tom and Tord didn’t respond; they were only focused on each other.

“Matt.” Edd turned to him. “Get Tom. I’ll get Tord.”

To the dismay of the crowd, Matt went to grab Tom first, who was straddled over Tord trying to land hits. Due to how drunk and blinded with fury he was, Tom didn’t and couldn’t put up much of a fight. Ignoring the glass and mess on the floor, Matt managed to drag Tom away from Tord just as Edd managed to grab Tord and keep him from moving.

The two still tried to go at each other, yelling and screaming incomprehensibly as Matt and Edd tried to get them away from the area. The patrons scattered or watched on as the four of them departed. They got some weird looks from the bouncers outside, but seeing Tord was enough for them to keep their mouths shut.

Once Edd and Matt managed to separate them, they had to decide what to do next.

Thankfully, Matt wasn’t too far gone substance-wise, so he offered to take Edd’s car and drive Tom back home. Edd had agreed to stay with Tord until Pau or Pat were to arrive and meet Tom and Matt home later.

It was a bit of a chore to load Tom into the passenger seat, but he managed to get his seatbelt on before running around and sitting himself in the driver’s seat. Matt started up the car as Tom grumbled to himself, seeming to have finally grasped where he was if not fighting with Tord on the floor. He winced as he adjusted his position on the chair, the faint smell of blood filling the car.

Understandably, the car ride was silent. The ordeal of getting Tom out of the car and guiding him to his flat was a little easier, but still silent.

“Matt?” Tom spoke quietly, voice hoarse as Matt guided him to his bed.

“...Yeah?” Matt sounded tired, and he had full right to be.

“...Can I talk to you about Tord?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspirational music for this chapter in no particular order
> 
> hurricane - p!atd  
> mean ass drunk - watsky  
> glow - i see stars
> 
> and people who leave comments..... my heart is big and constantly swelling. thank you for leaving comments really i love them all so much :'))))


	22. do yall even read these

==> You are now Tord, the next morning.

==> You first wake up with a pounding headache and a sense of imbalance throughout your entire body. As you struggle to open your eye, you understand your surroundings as Pat and Pau’s flat. The curtains are at least closed to spare yourself the eye strain, but you can tell it’s late morning by how bright the sun shines through the cracks.

==> Upon further inspection, you’re sprawled out on Pau’s bed, clothes changed from the night before, wounds tended to, and your robotic prosthetic missing. That explains the imbalance part.

==> Oh, and no eyepatch? Jesus, what happened last night?

==> You try to sit up and you feel dull, stinging pain throughout your back and arms. Your nose appears to be broken again, there’s a soreness in all of your fingers and you can’t tell if either of them are broken. The weirder part is that you’re upright and looking around, but Twom is nowhere in sight.

==> Normally he’s around to grace you with his unnecessary comments. Perhaps you half-expected him to give you a bastardized recap on what happened, but he’s just… gone. You can’t help but feel a bit perturbed by it.

==> As if on cue, the door opens and Pau sticks his face into the room. His expression switches from a neutral tired to a worry-filled anger.

==> _ You’re an idiot _ , he starts off as he steps into the room. You shrug silently, and tell him that you may need a refresher on what happened last night that led to today.

==> Pau explains that, according to Edd, you and Tom got into a fight that got pretty brutal. Apparently over broken glass? You blink and say that Tom may have pushed a table over that had a bunch of glasses on top of it, and that doesn’t help Pau’s expression.

==> Pau also mentioned that your arm’s missing because Tom broke it in the fight. You say  _ excuse me _ ? He says  _ yeah, you heard me correctly _ .

==> God damn it, it’s always one thing after another, isn’t it?

==> You tell Pau you want to see Tom in person as soon as possible; yes, this is a decision fueled by anger, but you’ve also got some important stuff that needs tended to that you’re  _ now _ going to need Tom’s help with. Pau says he could probably finagle an appointment for tomorrow, and you tell him that’s fine.

\----

==> And now you’re Pau, still in the same room, in the same moment in time, but still as disappointed.

==> You were really hoping you were over having to keep these two on child leashes, but apparently that’s not the case. You’re happy that Tom can see again, but you’re not happy with the idea that these two are gonna throw hands whenever they’re alone together.

==> Pat had headed out earlier to run some errands, and you volunteered to keep an eye on Tord until he woke up. So much for a relaxing morning… and now that Tord’s awake, you’re trying to piece together just what  _ happened _ between them to make them fight like that.

==> Well, you know by now that getting answers out of Tord like that isn’t and never will be easy. He’ll either feign forgetfulness or lie to you, and it seems like he’s told you as much as he’s comfortable with. But  _ seriously  _ Tom, a whole table? Jesus, who pissed in his cheerios?

==> No, you correct yourself. Tord pissed in his cheerios, specifically.

==> You sit on the bed with him, letting him ramble on about god knows what as you eye up his body. Thankfully, everything seems to be healing; you pulled the glass out of him and even then, none of it was deep enough to cause any serious damage. His nose is probably going to be crooked for life now, but that’s the least of his problems.

==> You peel off a few of the bandages on him to let them air out, and he seems to appreciate that he’s healing fast enough. Other than his nose and his arm, he seems to have come out mostly unscathed. You hope that Tom isn’t too roughed up.

==> Tord snaps you out of your thoughts, and asks you about his upcoming appointments. Well, it’s mostly just a lot of video call meetings and a few dinners… ah, right. Tord wanted to borrow Tom for one of his espionage missions. You ask Tord if he thinks Tom will agree to do such a thing, and he smiles at you; now that his arm’s damaged, Tom won’t have a choice.

==> You squint at him suspiciously.  _ Did you plan this _ ?

==> Tord says  _ no _ , but he may have let Tom land a few lucky hits on his prosthetic… ‘by accident’.

_ Are you trying to make my job harder on purpose, Tord _ ?

\--------

==> Wait, hold on. For now, you’re still Pau; that hasn’t changed. Ignore that little narrative break above. Your phone is going off.

==> Actually, it’s been buzzing for the past few minutes; someone’s clearly in a hurry to get ahold of you, but you felt it was best to settle things with your (mostly) impossible boss.

_ ASSHOLE. _

==> Ah, you’d recognize that caps lock anywhere.

_ YOU CAN’T JUST TELL ME TO SHOW UP AT A TIME _ _   
_ _ AND THREATEN ME _ _   
_ __ AND THEN NOT BE THERE.

==> It’s Eduardo.

==> After many confusing signals, threats, and other circumstances, you’re finally getting around to showing him around the workplace. You even made sure to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for this ordeal so you could get it over with. Unfortunately, Tom and Tord’s bar fight wasn’t in your plans. Or, maybe it was, but not in  _ these  _ plans.

==> So, a brief intermission once again. I feel like it gets annoying after a bit to have to remind my dear readers that  **you will be bold** and  _ the person you’re talking to will be italicized. _ I’m just going to make this a solid rule, and if I break it, feel free to call me out for it. 

==> Let’s get on with it.

**Would you calm down for once in your life?**

**Is your caps lock stuck or something?**

_ NO YOU JUST PISS ME OFF _

**Mhm**

**Sorry but things are going a little awry right now**

**I’m sure you heard about what happened last night**

_ YES _

_ AND THAT’S THE OTHER REASON WHY I’M PISSED OFF _

_ I HAD AN INKLING LIKE ‘OH MAYBE THEY’LL FINALLY KISS AND MAKE UP!’ _

**Nice joke**

_ YEAH, REALLY _

_ SO THEYRE A LOST CAUSE TO ME RIGHT NOW _

_ BUT ONTO MORE IMPORTANT THINGS _

_ WHEN THE HELL ARE YOU GETTING HERE? _

**I’ll come down to get you in a little bit**

**Tords with me right now and I don’t think I should leave him alone like this**

**Pat should be back soon**

**Sorry**

_ UGH IT’S FINE _

_ IF I’M GONE I WENT TO GO GET SOME BREAKFAST _

_ BECAUSE YOU KNOW _

_ A CERTAIN SOMEONE MADE ME COME HERE SO GODDAMN EARLY _

_ I COULDN’T GET ANYTHING _

**If I treat you to breakfast can you relax on the caps lock????**

**Tord is a big enough headache**

_ fine _

_ you big baby _

_ hurry down here _

==> He’s a real pain in the ass.

==> For as much as you’ve threatened him and inflicted injury onto the guy, he’s managed to get you back  _ in full _ by just being annoying. You wonder how Edd and the others lived next to this guy for so many years.

==> You suppose a bright side is that you want to kill him a little less. Only a little. If he steps out of line… well, you know what’ll happen.

\------

“Matt.” Edd perked up from his morning cola as Matt’s face was submerged in his coffee.

“Hm?” Matt hummed into the mug, a yawn following.

“Did you talk to Tom last night? After you took him home?”

Ah, yes.

Tom and Matt had pretty much spent the night together. Even before times like this, Tom had seen Matt as a person to confide in no matter what the issue was. Even if Matt couldn’t offer solid advice or reassurance, he was a pair of unbiased, listening ears and a warm body to lean on. Tom, of course, did the same for Matt, and that only made their friendship stronger.

Even through these deep chats, Matt had learned some stuff about Tom he never even  _ dreamed _ of being true.

_ How long, Tom? _

_ How long what? _

_ How long did this go on with Tord? _

_ Oh, for years. We’d fuck once, and then we would say ‘oh, this is a one-time thing’. Except it wouldn’t be a one time thing. And then we couldn’t… wouldn’t stop. And we fought. And then he left. _

_ Friends with benefits? _

_ Enemies with benefits. I don’t think he once ever referred to me as a friend in a positive light. _

_...So now? _

_ Haha. I don’t know. Before all that shit happened years ago, we had another moment together. _

“Matt? You alright?” Edd had leaned forward, his face getting pretty close to Matt’s.

“Sorry.” Matt leaned back, letting his mug sit on the table. “It was a long night. Yeah, I talked to him.”

“You look tired.”

“Yeah…”

“Did he at least calm down once you guys were alone?”

“He did in the car. I helped him inside, patched him up, and we just talked.” Matt shrugged. “Don’t even remember how late it got before we finally went to sleep.”

“Heh, wish I had the same luck.” Edd grinned, placing his hand on the back of his head. “Tord passed out in Pau’s car before I could even talk to him. Got a ride home afterwards, but I wasn’t able to get anything out of him.”

“Bummer.”

_ Tom… why didn’t you tell any of us this? _

_ None of your business? _

_ But Tom--- _

_ Look, it’s fine. It’s over. We’re not  _ **_that_ ** _ anymore. There’s no love between us. Even before all of this shit happened, he’s been fucking with me--- with  _ **_us_ ** _ this whole time. _

_ How? _

Matt’s answer was a little sarcastic; after everything Tom told him, Matt was almost relieved that he didn’t see Tord a lot.

“It  _ is _ a bummer.” Edd sighed. “I wouldn’t have minded hearing Tord’s side. He never tells us how he feels anymore…”

“As if he ever did, right? A  _ relief _ .” Little Tom sat in the empty chair between Edd and Matt, fingers tapping on his own manifested can of cola. “But Matt, don’t forget---”

_ Don’t tell Edd about this, okay? _

_ Why? _

_ Because he doesn’t need to worry about it. He’s been up my ass and holding me up on a pedestal all this time; the guy needs to take care of himself for once. This is my issue. I wanna deal with it. _

Matt couldn’t help but feel a slight unease at Edd’s worry for Tord, but he hid his opinions. Edd didn’t need to know; Matt wouldn’t betray Tom’s trust like that. “Did you try texting him?”

“No. Maybe I will later.”

“You should.”

_ Liar _ . Little Tom’s voice echoed in Matt’s ears.  _ You’re a good liar, or Edd’s more oblivious than we thought _ .

“Thanks for the encouragement.” Edd smiled a little. “But other than what happened, did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah, I did.” Matt’s face lit up a little. “Did I look ridiculous dancing with you?”

“Absolutely, but I did too. You’re a surprisingly good dancer with a drink in you.”

“Maybe we should dance and drink more often?”

“With or without the bar fights?”

The two shared a chuckle, Little Tom’s fingers tapping on the table as he eyed Matt up.

“But… in all honesty, I had a nice time with you last night.” Matt spoke up, heeding Little Tom’s signals to push a little harder.

“I did too. It’s been a while since we’ve been out like that.”

“We should do it more.”

“Ha, maybe. Just feels like we don’t have time for a lot anymore.” Edd’s smile turned a little sheepish. “With work and taking care of Tom and all…”

“But Tom’s all better now.”

“That’s true! I mean, cancer-wise at least. He’s a lot healthier, he’s been eating more… he’s slowly turning back to the same bitter asshole we know and love.”

“He’s  _ our  _ bitter asshole.” Matt shared Edd’s grin.

“...Maybe we could spend more time together. Tom seems self-sufficient enough, right?”

“Really?” Matt’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, why not? We’re friends, right?”

_ Oof _ .

“Yeah, like best friends?”

“Super best friends. The bestest of friends.”

“Like…” Matt thought for a moment. “...Soulmates?”

“Soulmates?” Edd chuckled. “That’s… a thing for lovers, isn’t it?”

“W-We love each other, right?”

“Yeah? I love you, Matt.”

Oh god. “Love you too, Edd.”

_ This is so painful to watch _ . Little Tom had inched closer to Edd, mocking his gestures and facial expressions.  _ My name’s Edd, I wouldn’t know flirting if someone snuck a wedding ring in my cereal! _

“So I guess we could be soulmates! Do we have to make a blood pact or something?”

“I think… the idea of soulmates is more of an intangible thing, Edd.” Matt picked up his mug and shoved his face in it so quickly; he couldn’t tell how much he was blushing, but he felt the heat on his face.

“Either way, I guess we’re soulmates now.”

_ Or you always were _ , Little Tom muttered.

“Y-Yeah, soulmates…”

“No, seriously! I kind of like this idea.” Edd leaned forward, closer to Matt from across the table. “Like, I love you, you know?”

“I love you too, Edd…” Matt averted his eyes, face still buried in his mug.

“Maaaaatt.” Edd leaned even closer, his face inches away from Matt’s.

“Eeeedd.” Matt replied, mocking Edd’s tone.

“I think, as my soulmate, you should look into my eyes when I’m talking to you.”

Matt, reluctantly, lowered his mug to show his reddened face and met Edd’s eyes. “Yes, soulmate?”

“I---”

\------

Oops, sorry. Connection cut out. We’ll have to get back to them later.

In the meantime, we move next door. Tom had just woken up to a very annoyed Tword eyeing him up. Thankfully, Tom’s injuries weren’t serious enough for him to need additional medical attention, so Matt felt comfortable enough leaving him alone for the morning.

“What. The fuck. Was  _ that _ ?” Tword had said this about three times already, still completely blindsided by the events of last night.

“I don’t know.” That was all Tom could say; he really  _ didn’t _ know. One night he’s saying how he could love Tord, and now he hates every fiber of his being?

“You know, even as a part of you, I still cannot fathom what goes through that peanut-sized brain of yours. Like your two remaining brain cells are in a constant tug-of-war.”

“I know.” Tom groaned, leaning back into his pillows. He felt too sore to get out of bed yet. “It was a rough night. I drank too much.”

“I know.” Tword sighed, assuming a sitting position as he freely floated in the air. “Any progress you made has been set back completely.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you even feel bad about it?”

“A little.” Tom shrugged. “I don’t know why I got so angry. And all that stuff I told Matt…”

“We know that we can trust Matt to not relay any of that to anyone else.”

“It’s not that. I just didn’t want him to know.”

Tword raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it’s not his problem, you know? It’s  _ my _ bullshit emotions and sexuality and junk. Matt shouldn’t have to shoulder my problems, let alone anyone else.”

“You have a point, but have you considered that shouldering all of your woes will only lead to you burning out? Or worse?” Tword floated closer to Tom, just barely above the bed. “If you had not gone to the doctor per Edd and Matt’s begging, imagine how far down the rabbit hole you would be.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have to deal with Tord.”

“I think you would have run into him one way or another, Thomas.”

“I could’ve delayed it.”

“Delaying the inevitable once again, are we?”

“It’s what I do best.” Tom turned in the bed, facing Tword’s floating body. “What do I do now?”

“Well…” Tword thought for a moment. “You could apologize.”

“No.”

“You threw the first punch.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? You  _ did _ .”

“God, stop reminding me.” Tom slapped his hands over his face. “I get it, it’s all my fault, Jesus Christ---”

“That is not what I’m saying, idiot.”

“Then what  _ are  _ you saying?”

“Can you just listen to my advice for once? Good god, you’re fucking stubborn.” Tword swiped Tom’s hands away from his face. “Just apologize to him, okay? I do not care how much you think you are in the right; just say sorry. That’s it!”

“Are you sure?”

“Thomas. I am so sure, you have no idea.”


	23. TBATFF (the beginning and the fake friend)

==> You are back to being Tord, except a few days later.

==> Unfortunately, you don’t have your prosthetic back, or at least a replacement; you’ve spent the past few days wobbling and nearly tripping from the lack of weight on the right side of your body. Pau just instructed you to lay low for now, which pretty much means you’ve been isolating yourself in your flat this whole time. Sure, you can do a lot of your work and planning from the comfort of your personal quarters, but you’re starting to get cabin fever.

==> At the very least, Tom’s coming up to visit you as scheduled. Twom’s been looking forward to this visit, and he’s made that pretty obvious by constantly being up your ass. Ever since the fight a few nights ago, Twom’s been bouncing off the walls more than usual. Something about the raw, sexual tension of fighting with someone on the floor of the bar with everyone watching. No, no; you’re not planning to make more of a scene than you already did.

==> What you  _ are _ planning to do is rope Tom into your espionage mission mentioned before; something that’s pretty important to you both in your social and political status. Sure, you could have Pau or Pat help you, but it would be better to have a fresh face with you.

==> All of your other colleagues are too caught up in their own assignments, Bing’s fixing your arm  _ and _ finagling with the final draft for Tom’s eyes, and Red is much too young.

_ Ding _ .

==> The elevator going off, followed by the engine buzzing causes you to turn around. Tom peaks into your flat, and he appears to have something behind his back. You realize that you’re not wearing an eyepatch… or a shirt. All of your scars and spots are on display, blood-red lazy eye included.

==> Tom’s lips part in surprise, his eyes going white for a moment as he checks you out. Immediately after, he averts his gaze, mumbling a  _ sorry _ as an opportunity for you to go and make yourself decent. Nah, you’re not going to do that. You’re used to the looks by now.

==> _ It’s fine _ , you say. He takes a second, but he finally looks at you again. He’s a bit perturbed, but you ignore his expression.

==> You ask him what he has with him, and pulls out something you never expected.

==> _ Serinakaker. _

==> For those who aren’t multicultural; Norwegian butter cookies!

==> You haven’t seen those in  _ years _ ; they’re clearly not  _ homemade _ , but not grocery-bought either. Perhaps there’s a bakery somewhere that makes them? And you didn’t  _ know _ about this?

==> Tom grins, clearly seeing that you’re drooling.  _ You haven’t had these recently _ ? You say no; you’ve been strictly dieting for god knows how long now. A future supreme leader needs to keep his figure up.  _ So you don’t want these _ ?  _ They’re my apology cookies for beating the shit out of you. _

==> You sigh and tell him of  _ course _ you want them. You allow him to set them on the coffee table; besides, you have something you need to talk to him about.

==> He goes  _ alright, shoot _ . You proceed to explain your whole…  _ espionage  _ thing. Now, revealing this entire plan would spoil a lot, and we’re not going to do that. Just imagine you talking Tom’s ear off for about 10 minutes, and that’s the explanation.

==> He says  _ so, I just have to go to dinner with you _ ? You say yeah, pretty much; you’re merely just spying on some potential political traitors, and you would like a fresh face to accompany you. Pat and Pau would be present, of course, but would be off doing their own thing to avoid suspicion.

==> Tom asks you if there’s any way he can get out of this. You say no.

==> Tom squints, and asks you if you’re using your broken prosthetic as leverage for him to help you. You say  _ bingo _ !

==> _ God damn it _ , he says.

\----

“...So that’s what happened?” Eduardo raised an eyebrow, finishing his latest gulp of coffee after Pau’s explanation.

“It was pieced together by the four of them; fortunately, I wasn’t present for the fight.” Pau shrugged, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray on the table.

Yes, Pau did actually take Eduardo out to breakfast. He’s not that much of an asshole, and the fact that he knows Eduardo is neighbors with those 4 idiots, the guy probably needs all the help he can get. They settled down for coffee and pancakes, but once they finished eating all they could do was hash about Tom, Tord, and others back and forth.

“Kind of wish I was there. I would’ve loved to have seen those two go at it.”

“In a lowkey way, so do I.” Pau took a huff of his cigarette, letting the smoke fume out of his nose as he spoke. “But I’m sure Edd wouldn’t forgive me if I stood around and didn’t stop them.”

“He was pretty upset about it once the whole thing was over.”

“I can imagine.”

“He didn’t give Tom too much of an earful; he used the other one for that.”

“Matt?”

“Yeah, that one. After that, things calmed down.”

“Well, that’s good. I think all of us are due for a break from the chaos lately.”

Eduardo put down his coffee, leaning back into his seat. “You’re telling me. I thought moving away from those idiots would be the end of most of the stress, but boy was I wrong.”

“Right, you guys were neighbors.” Pau tapped his fingers on the table. “Did you know Tord back then?”

“It was just the three of them when we all moved in. 3 versus 3 kind of deal, you know?”

“Three?” Pau raised an eyebrow. “You, and Mark… that’s two. What about---”

“He died.”

“...Ah.” Pau lowered his cigarette onto the ashtray, folding his hands on top of each other. “Er… sorry.”

Eduardo squinted at him. “Wait, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That it was Tord’s fault. His giant robot or whatever. Killed my friend and destroyed my house?”

“Well, at the time we were more fixated on Tord and Edd’s old house but… I had no idea.”

“Not surprising that you don’t know.” Eduardo turned his head towards the window. “I doubt he even remembers doing it at this point.”

“Tord doesn’t forget things  _ that  _ easily… since it happened on that day in particular, then he may remember.”

“And even if he does, what do I even do with that information?”

“....I don’t know.” Pau also turned his head to the window, slowly reaching for his cigarette again. “I’m starting to understand your apprehension for… well, all of this.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Listen, it’s not all that bad. Tord isn’t always an asshole. There’s just… you know, the obsession with his old friends. Mostly Tom.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” Eduardo glanced at Pau. “You feel bad yet?”

“A little. That doesn’t mean I’m letting you off the hook, though.” Pau returned the stare. “Speaking of not letting you off the hook, I’ve got a job for you.”

“We haven’t even toured the place yet and you’re giving me a job?” Eduardo turned back around, Pau following. “Or is it just a one day training type deal?”

“No, no, nothing factory related. More of a social thing… and partially a favor from me.” Pau took another breath of his cigarette, finally smushing the last of it into the ashtray.

“...Is that allowed?”

“It’s Red Army related, relax. I wouldn’t get you in trouble before you even started.”

“Alright. Then what is it?”

“I… need you to come to dinner with me. I mean, technically we’ll be with Tord. We’re doing some spying, and having Pat with me would be too obvious. So I’m recruiting you.”

“That’s it.” Eduardo raised an eyebrow. “No catch?”

“The only ‘catch’ is that it’s going to be full of politicians. And at a very fancy restaurant, so I hope you own a suit.”

“Of course I own a suit.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem.” Pau finally flashed a smile; it wasn’t too big, but it was kind enough to bring some ease to Eduardo. “It’ll be this Friday, so you have a few days to mentally prepare.”

“Am I going to regret this?”

“Not anymore than I will.”

\-------

“Hey, hold on a second.”

Tord was just about to escort Tom back to the elevator; what was supposed to be a couple of minutes turned into almost an hour of them chatting back and forth. It wasn’t anything fruitful, but they at least came to the common understanding that  _ maybe _ they should try to upset Edd a little less.

“Hm?” Tord raised an eyebrow, turning back to Tom. “I thought you said you were leaving.”

“Well, yeah, but I realized I forgot something.”

“You are going to take your cookies back?” Tord put up a mock frown. “But Thomas, you said those were a gift.”

“No, no, not anything like that.” Tom turned around to face Tord, eyeing up his form.

“Then what is it?”

“Uh…” Tom lifted a hand, attempting to form some sort of sentence together. “Did I… do all of that?”

Tord opened his mouth to answer, but fell silent. Tom was referring to Tord’s… well, self. “The arm and the eye? Yes, you did. The rest of me? About 90% of it, yes.”

“...Right.” Tom turned away.

“It does not hurt, if that was a concern of yours.”

“No, it just… you know, looks like a nuisance.”

“It was and still is in every sense of the word.” Tord chuckled. “But it is a part of me now. Would be better if I had my prosthetic, but I won’t have it until at least tomorrow.”

Tom turned back to Tord; seeing that his expression was relaxed brought Tom some ease, but he couldn’t take his eyes off all of the gnarly scars and discoloration littering Tord’s body. It made Tom feel like the scar on his arm and a few other places from the house falling on him feel kind of pathetic.

“I…” Tom began.

“What is it, Thomas?”

Tom’s hand was still awkwardly raised; finally, he let it settle on Tord’s scarred shoulder. “...I’m sorry.”

Tord was taken aback; he would never expect an apology out of Tom of all people. Hell, the butter cookies were enough of a surprise for one day. Twom perked his head up so quickly you could swear it was about to pop off. He immediately slid over next to Tom, staring him down as Tom’s expression was soft… and a little sad.

“You’re… sorry?”

“Yeah.” Tom swallowed a breath, his grip tightening a little. “For your arm. And I guess the rest of you. And your nose… it’s sort of crooked now, that’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

Tord was absolutely speechless; Twom looked at him expectantly, but Tord couldn’t move. Tom’s hand on his shoulder froze his body in place, and all he could do was stare at Tom’s tired eyes.

“...You haven’t made a face like that in a while.” Tom placed his other hand on the opposite shoulder.

“...Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Tom could feel Tword creeping up behind him; his own eyes were locked with Twom’s, who kept glancing back and forth between all three of them.

“But what about---”

“No.” Tom cut off Tord’s sputtering. “Just let me apologize. I’m sorry, Tord. You don’t even have to forgive me.”

“I… I forgive you.” Tord finally managed to answer. “But- but but, listen, certainly it is not that simple---”

“Don’t think about it too much, okay?” Tom hushed him, finally moving his hands away from Tord. “I’ll see you Friday, okay?”


	24. i wouldnt know my own internalized issues if they strangled me awake and pissed in my cheerios; a memoir collaboration by tord and twom, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello  
> trying to update a little more frequently since december-february will be busy for me :(  
> school, work, moving jobs, birthday, all that fun stuff  
> so hopefully i will be able to tackle a huge lump of plot before i don't update for a longer period of time than usual  
> thank you as always for reading my work  
> i love your comments and nice things to say and quirky anons :') ♥

==> Your name is Tord, and you’re finally awake.

==> The struggle to open your eyes is due to the sun glaring down on you as you’re laying on a poolside chair. Your one leg hangs off, the sandal once clinging to it long forgotten. You have a loose grip on what appears to be a novel you were reading before you dozed off. Your sunglasses are on the ground, which would explain your weakness to the light.

==> Your other hand reaches down to feel for your sunglasses, and thankfully they’re not too far away. You grab them, immediately getting them onto your face and ignoring the heat from them as they’ve probably been sitting in the sun for hours. Maybe? You aren’t really sure how much time has passed.

==> The sun hangs dead-center in the sky, and you’re pretty far from any shade aside from the overturned umbrella next to you. You take in your surroundings; you’re near an empty pool, water still aside from the occasional bug skipping over it. A building stands next to you; no, it doesn’t appear to be a hotel or anything like that. Come to think of it, you can’t really recognize any of the surrounding area from where you are.

==> You finally stand up, leaving the book on the chair as you stretch yourself out. Your prosthetic gleams in the sunlight as you fidget and try to make sense of what’s happening.

==> You look at your opposite hand, and notice a ring.

==> No, not an actual ring. Sort of. It’s a silicone band on your ring finger. You can’t seem to place the significance of it, but you also don’t want to take it off.

==> After getting your neglected sandal back on your foot, you feel an overwhelming need to go inside. As if on cue, a small patio deck connected to the poolside catches your eye. You begin walking without even realizing it; pushing the sliding door open and feeling the air conditioning immediately perk your skin up.

==> Once you close the door, you’re face to face with a full length mirror. You eye yourself up; you’re shirtless, the trauma of every single awful thing that’s happened to you visible on your body. You don’t have your eyepatch on, but you also don’t feel a need to find it. You also can’t help but notice your face seems… a little brighter than usual. You look like the kind of guy with a little extra spring in your step.

==> Your thoughts are interrupted by a clock chiming in another room. It reminds you of the clock in your office; every hour drones onward as it would seem like your workload never ends. You notice in your reflection that there’s a coat hanger behind you. It has your jacket on it, still riddled with all of the scuffs and other minor details that remind you of your job and status. There’s also something else hanging there…

==> You finally turn away from the mirror. Something is drawing you to move on, and your legs just seem to guide themselves. This place appears to be a condo, and a nice one at that; fancy little kitchen with an island, a living room with a generously sized television with a view of a beach not too far away. No pictures hung on the walls aside from some framed prints of flowers or still-life drawings. Still, despite the minimalist decoration, you think it’s a nice looking place.

==> You find a stairway and make your way up. You step into a small lobby that connects to a few hallways. One leads to a bathroom, judging by the open door. Another leads to a balcony. One more catches your interest as it’s a little longer than the other halls. It’s got two doors on either side as you assume either of them are bedrooms. You also catch that one of them is cracked open.

==> You sneak over, peeking your head into the doorway.

==> He’s sleeping.

==> Didn’t you wake him up earlier? Did he decide to go back to bed?

==> You creep in, strolling towards the bed and stopping at the edge. His breathing is slow and his snores are soft from his head being stuffed into a pillow. You can’t help but crack a smile, leaning forward to nudge him awake.

==> He stirs, soon opening his eyes to you grinning. You say  _ Thomas, weren’t you awake earlier _ ? He says yeah, for a minute. Then he fell back asleep. You were  _ wondering _ what was taking him so long.

==> Tom squints at you.  _ You’re still shirtless _ ? You tell him it’s summer and you two are on your honeymoon; you don’t  _ have _ to wear a shirt.

==> Honeymoon, really?

==> Tom chuckles, urging you to lay in bed with him. You say you just woke up from a nap outside; you’re not tired anymore.  _ I don’t mean for sleeping, Tord _ .

==> Not for sleeping?

==> Well, that’s a coincidence.

==> Because now you’re awake.

==> For real this time.

==> Yeah, that was a dream. This is reality now. You’re in bed, drenched in your own sweat and neck straining from how hard you sprung up.

==> Twom flinched, whipping his head over to you as he looks equally as surprised as you. Unfortunately, this occurrence isn’t new for the two of you; you will occasionally have these super vivid dreams of… well, all sorts of scenarios. From reliving old memories to you taking over the world or confronting your innermost trauma? You’ve seen all of it. This is the first time, however, you’ve had a dream like  _ this _ .

==> You look down at your hand; sure enough, no ring. You can’t tell if you’re relieved or not.

==> Twom’s now sitting on the edge of the bed asking you what the  _ fuck _ that was about. You can’t answer him; you’re still processing that your brain could conjure up such a scenario. You and Tom, alone together in such a way? Yeah, you could handle that. But being  _ married _ ?

==> Ugh. Marriage. Your least favorite topic of all.

==> You ask Twom if this is just something so buried under your many personalities that it’s just cropping up  _ recently _ , and he shrugs. This is the first time he’s ever seen you think of something like this, albeit not while conscious. He says you’re not really the  _ lovey _ type, judging by your many, many affairs with many, many people.

==> Right, so being an up and rising political figure, soon-to-be dictator (though you’ve been debating that too; dictator sounds too harsh for your liking, but you really,  _ really _ wanna take over the world), you know a lot of people. And a lot of people know you. And people know that you’re a bigshot with a decent sized army under your rule, access to lots of technology, and a lot of money. You know what happens to people with money? Other people are drawn to them like flies.

==> Another one of your least favorite things; people who want you for your money.

==> Even before Tom became an issue in your life again, you’ve never been too interested in dating. You didn’t want to invest energy into a person like that; what’s the point? What would you need a partner or spouse for, let alone friends? They were all the same to you; liabilities and a whole other cans of worms with their own moral agendas that could conflict with yours. Granted, Pau and Pat, Red, and a few others are exceptions to this rule. Therefore, your circle is very, very small.

==> That didn’t stop the cute, single daughters of political kingpins from hitting you up at parties. And some sons, too, though those were a little rarer. The girls would come to you with the prospect of you knocking them up, and you knew this. You had no interest in having a family, let alone being a relationship, but you enjoy sex.

==> So naturally, you’ve had sex with a lot of people. A lot. You’ve done a lot too, and perhaps it opened a door a self-discovery for you in some ways; however, all of that sex had a toll on your view of other people and the uncontrollable thoughts of sexual activities throughout the day.

==> Did Twom stop you? No, he encouraged it.

==> Granted, you haven’t done anything like that since you’ve met up with Tom again. You were never unsafe with your sexy adventures, so it’s not like there’s something festering inside of you right now. It just… felt weird to be sleeping around while you're in business with someone you’ve slept with. Yeah, you’re a bit of a hypocrite, too.

==> But because you haven’t had your nightly fix of someone’s hole or dick or  _ whatever _ in god knows how long, you can feel your brain running on its last wind. That just results in Twom having his way with you behind closed doors, but a projection of your crippling mental health who happens to resemble that guy you have the most complicated feelings for  _ ever _ can only do so much for you.

==> You want to have sex with Tom again; you can’t hide this. You know you want to and Twom knows you  _ want _ to. You don’t even know if it’s out of love or hate or something in between; you’re just craving the sensations and memories you used to have with him. Kissing him that one time only to immediately get you punched was enough to raise your blood pressure for a week.

==> Sure, you had sex with Tom when you were disguised as Tori, but that wasn’t the same either. You don’t  _ want _ to have to hide in order to get with Tom. You want to be genuine about this.

  
  


\--------

**Friday** .

The elevator dinged as the doors closed, the chamber slowly ascending as Tom patted down his suit. Tord had instructed him to drew nicely, and Tom even went through the effort to get this outfit dry-cleaned and  _ everything _ . Tom though he looked hot as fuck; probably better than he’s looked in years. Tord also had a few other weird instructions for you; not to shave (easy), lay off the piercings (never), and to  _ maybe _ swear a little less than usual (good luck). 1 out of 3 is 33.3, and in some cases, that’s a pass.

Tword wasn’t thrilled about this; it’s obvious he doesn’t like Tord very much, but he couldn’t help but be put off by this whole event going on. Surely there was something else to it? Underlying details Tord didn’t mention? Ulterior motives? Who knows. Tom wrote it off as Tword being paranoid, but still heeded instructions to stay on his toes. With Tord, Tom  _ always _ had to be on his toes.

_ Ding _ .

Oh,  _ hell _ no.

“Thomas!” A very familiar feminine voice greeted Tom. Tom exchanged glances with Tword, but all the two of them could do was stare. “You are early. You should have waited a second; I don’t have makeup on yet!”

“...What’s the big idea here?” Tom asked, hesitantly stepping out of the elevator.

“Oh… well. This is uh. I guess I didn’t mention Tori is joining us?”

“No, you didn’t. This isn’t part of the deal, Tord.”

“Listen, listen!” Tori raised her hands up. “Why would I go to a dinner concerning  _ me _ as a person as  _ myself _ ? I had to use a disguise module again!”

“But… did you have to use  _ this one _ ?” Tom looked away; he got a better look at Tori, who was wearing the absolute tightest red dress she could find. Long with a slit and a dangerously plunging neckline? God, this isn’t fair.

“It is the most successful model I have. It may be awkward, but remember; you  _ have _ to help me.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Whatever.” Tom finally looked back at Tori, a pit present in his stomach. “No weird shit, alright?”

“No, no! Nothing like that.” Tori stepped closer, picking up a small box from the coffee table next to her. “I do, however, have to add some accessories…”

“Like?”

Tori squinted at Tom for a moment before opening the box. “Didn’t I tell you to take your piercings out?”

Tom stuck out his tongue, letting his teeth show just enough to show off his smiley piercing. “Never.”

“Ugh, alright. I suppose I deserve it. You can have this, then.” Tori pulled a small gold band out of the box. Upon closer inspection, Tom realized she had a matching one. “Put it on your ring finger; we will be playing as a couple on their honeymoon. Not real rings though; there is a very tiny dial on the underside. If you feel you are in trouble, just spin it.”

“This is…” Tom started, plucking the ring from Tori and eyeing it up. “...it’s something.”

“Amazing, right?” Tori grinned. “It is a nifty little gadget; I’ve used it before.”

Tom reluctantly put the ring on, wondering why he didn’t just drive his car into a lake on his way here. “Any other weird gadgets I need with me?”

“Earpiece.” Tori pulled one out, handing it to Tom. “Button on the center turns on the microphone so you can speak if needed, but I do not think that will be an issue.”

“Don’t you think that something’s gonna go wrong here?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “Are we dealing with people so dangerous that we need all these precautions?”

“Yes, we are. But it will be fine. I have been preparing for this night for months. Besides, some of the intel gathered will prove to come in useful later on. For all of us.” Tori closed the box, tossing it aside. “Besides, we will have Pau and Pat tonight as well. They will not be with us in person, but they won’t let anything bad happen.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve never done something this intense before.” Tom shifted. “This isn’t some huge ploy to kill me off, is it?”

“Tom, do you know how many opportunities I’ve had to kill you by now? Don’t you think I would have already?” Tori sighed, turning around for the bathroom. “Don’t ask silly questions; let me just go freshen myself up and we can leave.”

Tom stayed quiet as she went for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Tom finally sighed, making his way over to one of the loveseats to sit down and process everything that just happened. It really just feels like some sick prank on his life; he was really hoping that this would be something  _ normal _ , but Tord being Tord just had to leave out some details. He always fucking did.

Tword, on the other hand, looked worse for wear than Tom did.

“You look furious.” Tom commented, turning to look at Tword who sat next to him.

“Oh, I am. But for once, it is not directed at you.” Tword reassured. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Finally we can agree on something.” Tom leaned back into the cushioned seat. “I guess I should heed to your intuition a little more often.”

“It  _ has _ been pretty accurate lately.”

“Don’t get cocky, now.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I just seem to have a knack when it comes to reading the minds of complete idiots.” Tword placed his head in his hands. “This entire ordeal is going to give me such a headache. Please don’t do anything stupid, Tom.”

“I’m not, I’m not. Just gonna let Tor--- Tori, pull me around on my little leash and hopefully it’ll be over quick.”

“Do you even know where she’s taking you?”

“Dude, I barely knew that  _ Tori _ was in this plan. You really think I know where we’re going?”

“Ugh.” Tword grimaced. “You really need to ask him more questions. You’re killing me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some songs for that dream:
> 
> your love - i see stars  
> empire ants - gorillaz  
> ultimately - khai dreams  
> gooey - glass animals  
> blueberry eyes - max ft suga
> 
> and some other songs for the aftermath:
> 
> post break-up sex - the vaccines  
> bloody valentine - machine gun kelly  
> tessellate - alt-J  
> tangerine - glass animals  
> love lockdown - the og kanye west version, the glass animals cover, AND the LMFAO remix. no i dont take criticism


	25. i wouldnt know my own internalized issues if they strangled me awake and pissed in my cheerios; a memoir collaboration by tord and twom, part 2; featuring matt and edd

The car ride was awkwardly silent, minus Tori and Tom’s occasional bickering. Tom drove, Tori sat in the passenger side, while Tword and Twom sat in the backseat. Of course they’re coming with them, are you kidding? Tword needed to make sure Tom didn’t do anything dumb, and Twom just wanted to watch everything burn.

Twom had occasionally hit Tword up for conversation, but he would only get one or two word replies before Tword would go back to ignoring him. Twom was used to Tword’s moodiness by now, and he could understand why Tword was a little more tense than usual.

Is that going to stop him? Nope.

“Hey, come on. It’s weird and silent and hearing  _ them _ argue like an actual married couple… is in character, but unbearable.” Twom poked Tword’s shoulder. “Come on, at least tell me I’m an idiot.”

“You are an idiot.” Tword muttered as he kept his gaze out the window, his cheek pressed into the cold glass.

“Wow, more than two words. I’ve never been prouder.”

“Are you capable of just sitting quietly?”

“Not really capable of being quiet in general.” Twom shrugged. “When Tord’s sitting and doing paperwork for hours on end, I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“Mhm.”

“Are you still mad at me for giving you a boner? I said I was sorry---”

“God, you’re so embarrassing.” Tword groaned, finally turning to look at him. “Out of all of the things you had to bring up---”

“It got you to look at me, though.” A corner of Twom’s mouth curved up into a smirk. “You wanna have a proper conversation now? We’ve still got a bit in here.”

Tword sighed. “I have a question.”

“We’re getting somewhere! I might have an answer.”

“Do you… know anything about the treatment Tom received while in Tord’s care?”

Twom raised a confused eyebrow. “You’ve got paperwork for that, don’t you? He should’ve given you all of the documentation for it.”

“I mean  _ specifics. _ ”

“Like what? Are you an ‘essential oils’ kind of guy or something?”

“No,  _ no _ . Just listen to me.” Tword grit his teeth, pausing to stop himself from saying something insulting. “It’s just… ever since Tom’s cancer was taken care of and Tord gave him those… ‘glasses’, he has been acting differently.”

“I think anyone who’s freshly cancer-free  _ and  _ got his eyesight back would be acting differently.”

“No, not like that… he’s just… a little more emotionally turbulent? Hypersensitive? There is something off about him that I cannot quite pinpoint.”

Twom shrugged. “I don’t really know, nor am I really able to give anymore information on that. I know everything Tord knows, but there are some things that go on in his head that even I can’t repeat.”

“So he is secretive about his methods?”

“You could say that.” Twom’s hand moved to scratch the back of his head. “Look, all I can tell you for sure is that Tord’s not trying to physically hurt him or anything. It’s not like those glasses have some sort of self-destruct sequence or anything. It’s a prototype for something el---  _ aw, fuck _ .”

“A  _ prototype _ ?” Tword was a little worried, but also intrigued. “So there  _ is  _ something else---”

“No, no there isn’t.” Twom put his hands up. “That slipped out. You didn’t hear that. Hey, I’m gonna do that thing where I sit quietly and you ignore me, does that sound good?”

“No, it doesn’t. If you know what’s good for you, you will tell me what you’re on about.”

“And what if I say no, huh?” Twom’s smirk returned. “You gonna fight me tooth and nail for it? Tom’s emotions may reflect on you, but it works both ways, sweetheart. If you go for my throat, there’s a good chance Tom’s gonna flub the operation for everyone, including Tord. You  _ really _ wanna do this?”

Tword fell silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Twom was right. Twom, behind that idiotic persona, was a lot smarter than Tword would ever give him credit for. After all, Twom was essentially Tord, and Tord’s a genius when he tries to be. Tword knew that he wouldn’t get anything out of Twom peacefully, and fighting him definitely wasn’t an option.

Tword gave one last glare to Twom before sinking back in his seat, his face returning to the window.

“Good choice, Jehovah.” Twom turned the other way, looking out his own window.

Would Twom tell Tword what was up if he were able? Maybe; would depend on if he was feeling particularly generous. Still, he did feel a little bad about leaving Tword hanging, but revealing sensitive information like that would only screw up things for the future.

And, er, spoil this story. Which we’re not trying to do here.

Both of their thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt braking of the vehicle, Twom and Tword barely sitting back far enough to not be thrown forward. Tom and Tori bickered in the front seats; something about Tom almost rear-ending someone but Tom  _ immediately _ defending himself with  _ well, that asshole tried to brake check me _ !

Uh-huh. This was what Tword was talking about. Twom could feel the atmosphere immediately tense up when Tom raised his voice. He looked over at Tori; her face didn’t show that she noticed, but Twom knew that she knew. She  _ always _ knows.

Tword looked at Tom; his heart rate picked up significantly upon hitting the brakes, but it finally started to slow down as he continued driving. Something like that set him off so easily? Usually Tom’s road rage was a lot quieter, and he was usually pretty careful when it came to driving  _ normally _ … so, what in the world was that?

“ _ Kjære _ , turn left.” Tori spoke up beyond her bickering with Tom.

“We don’t need a valet,  _ honey _ .” Tom mocked the pet name.

“It is a part of the reservation. Just turn. We need to  _ not _ look suspicious.” Besides, they weren’t even in Tom’s car; it was a borrowed vehicle not even under their names.

“Alright, fine.” Tom really didn’t have as much room to argue as he thought.

The valet gave a nod to them as the car rolled up. He was a young guy, fake smile on his face as he opened the door for Tori. Tom stepped out, tossing the keys to the valet with a nod, who in return tossed a ticket with a number on it.

Once the valet drove off with the vehicle, Tori looked at the ticket in Tom’s hand.

“You may want to get rid of it. Or hide it. We won’t be needing that car after this.”

Tom squinted, crumbling the ticket in his hand. “What the hell are you even planning?”

“Not planning much. I am just thinking ahead in the event that this whole thing backfires. Offer me your arm, please?”

All Tom had to remember was that this was only  _ pretend _ . Merely roleplaying. Maybe not on the level of Matt and Little Tom that one time, but this was still fake. Tom and Tord---  _ Tori _ , weren’t actually married. This was all for the sake of gathering intel… maybe. Tord never really gave Tom a full explanation, but Tom figures Tord knows what he’s doing when it comes to these sorts of things.

Tom offered his arm, Tori hooking her arm around his as they made their way inside. Go figure, it was the stuffiest building Tom had ever walked into. Chandeliers, gold trim, red carpet, marble  _ everything _ ; it was your stereotypical fancy restaurant, even with the suffocating battle between many expensive perfumes and various trails of cigar smoke.

Tori didn’t give Tom a whole lot of time to eye up the sights; the two of them went up to the counter. An older man stood over a book, spectacles sitting on the tip of his nose. He looked up, assuming a half smile as he adjusted his glasses.

“Name?” He tried to sound cheerful, but anyone could see that he was as sick as these snobby people as anyone else.

“Rosser.” Tom responded, as rehearsed. The man looked down, skimming over the other reservations.

“...You insisted on having your table in the area of a private party.” His eyebrows furrowed. “They have allowed you to keep your reservation, but they have also offered to pay your transfer fee…”

“Not necessary.” Tori gave a smile. “Our reservation was made first,  _ and  _ it’s our honeymoon. We are not giving up this table.”

“My apologies.” The man nodded, stepping away from the counter. “Please follow me.”

Going through the walk of shame through this place was even worse than Tom could imagine. He could feel so many pairs of eyes looking him up and down, judging every step and crinkle of his suit. Tori remained hooked on him, seeming to glare at any other ladies with wandering eyes. Tom supposed Tori had to be  _ somewhat _ protective; this was their  _ honeymoon _ , after all.

The man led them to a gated red rope. He moved the clip, parting the rope so the three of them could pass through. Sure enough, this ‘private party’ was even worse than the restaurant itself. Tom would’ve taken his chances with the rich cougars if he had known this was in store.

Sure enough, Tom could recognize many political figureheads sitting at the tables. They were of varying levels of authority; some current, some past, some on the ballot. The younger faces he saw, he could only assume that those were aspiring heirs and heiresses to the older airheads in the crowd. Quite a few of them were foreign, which gave Tom the impression that this was a little bit bigger than just a private party.

The table for them was a little secluded from the bigger group, but also had a pretty nice view of some of the more  _ important _ figures. The man pulled out chairs for either of them, before swiftly walking away.

Tori had a smile on her face; Tom tried to mimic the smile, but his nerves were painfully obvious.

“Intimidated?” Tori raises an eyebrow, her fingernails tapping against a glass of water next to her.

“Everyone in this room has the power to make me disappear.  _ Why wouldn’t I be _ ?”

“Relax, Thomas. All we are here to do is observe and take notes. We have backups, remember?”

Tom sunk in his seat a little, eyeing the small menu card on the table with every alcoholic speciality the restaurant served.

“Ah-ah.” Tori caught onto what Tom was thinking. “No drinking. We agreed. I need you to be sober.”

“Maybe you really  _ are  _ my wife. I mean, you’ve got the dictating-my-personal-life thing down.”

“Don’t be childish. You can get as shitfaced as you want once we’re done; on my dime. For now, I need you to focus.” Tori’s eyes moved to a longer table that appeared to be the centerpiece of the whole area. An older man sat at one end, wearing an expensive suit with attractive young ladies on either side of him. “Old man on the left end. Did you know he wants me dead?”

“Does he now.” Tom picked up his own glass of water, taking a sip. “What’d you do?”

“I decided to publicize the fact that his ‘charity’ was fake and was merely a constant money funnel to ensure his income remained tax-free. He did not like that very much.” Tori couldn’t hide her chuckling. “Sure, he paid his way out of American prison, like most do, but that does not change the fact that he wants my head on a stake.”

“...Not the sort of evil activity I was expecting from you.”

“Hey, I can be a good egg if I want to. For the right reasons.”

“Right…” Tom followed Tori’s eyes; the man just looked like a run-of-the-mill sugar daddy, but he supposed that Tori’s story lined up with what he looked like. “Is he the one we’re here for?”

“One of them. It is still early, so not everyone is here yet.”

“And we’re only here for intel? Seems like we could do a lot more here.”

“I like your creative headspace, but this is only a party for the figureheads and chess pieces to keep their noses clean. There shouldn’t be anything  _ too  _ drastic going on.”

“So we’re just going to sit here and eat dinner and pretend to be married? That’s it?” Tom’s hand reached for one of the leather-backed menus.

“The party will hit its peak in about an hour. The line between regular pedestrians and partygoers will be blurred. That will give us the opportunity to wander and mingle.”

“I don’t really find kissing up to a bunch of old dudes as a good pastime.”

“No, no.  _ I  _ will be with the older guests… you will scoop out the younger crowd. You are not exactly what I would call ‘diplomatic’.”

“Please remember that we’re supposed to be married, Tori.”

“Ha! I’m not going to  _ hit _ on them per say… just  _ sweeten them up _ a little. Maybe pick their pockets if I’m feeling frisky.” Tori put on a smirk, her red lipstick making it all the more vibrant. “What? You afraid I’m going to leave you,  _ kjære _ ?”

“ _ No _ , just trying to get in character like you  _ wanted _ me to.”

“That’s the spirit.”

\------

==> You are now Matt; same evening as Tom and Tori and company, but in a completely different location.

==> You have no idea where Tom or Tord are; you assume that they’re out doing some work thing or whatever, but it doesn’t worry you. Mostly because you don’t really remember being told anything important in the first place. What  _ do _ you remember? Well, that Edd’s staying over your place tonight.

==> Edd was feeling a bit lonely; perhaps he’s got the empty nest syndrome even all this time later. Sure, Little Tom was part of the reason you even offered to have Edd over, but you really just wanna help your friend out. With a lot of things.

==> One of those things? His shower routine.

==> Edd is a clean cut guy, but he wasn’t too amazing upon a shower once a day, maybe twice in the summer, and the occasional trimming of his facial hair. He wasn’t as invested in things like skincare and pedicures and manicures as yourself. Hell, Edd didn’t even blow dry his hair. Edd’s mop was thick as hell and unconditioned; you feel a strong need to pamper him as much as you can.

==> So, you’ve dragged Edd into your flat. You shoved him in the shower despite his insistence that he showered  _ before he came over _ . And now you’re both sitting on your couch, each sporting a peel-off face mask that smells like grapefruits. You’ve blow dried and fluffed out his hair to his dismay. Still, Edd lets you do it.

==> Edd asks you how long he has to keep the mask on, and you tell him for another 45 minutes. He gives a mock sigh, saying that beauty really is pain. You nod, telling him it could be a lot worse; you could’ve offered to wax his legs as a consultation gift, and he’s quick to tell you that skincare is a  _ lovely _ hobby.

==> As much as you enjoy pampering Edd, you do enjoy the idea of being up close and personal with his face. And most of his body. It brings back memories of roleplaying with Little Tom and the thought immediately makes you flushed. Little Tom knows this, and enjoys sticking his masked face next to Edd’s equally masked face to make you jump. Dear god, you  _ still _ can’t handle seeing double. Curse your character development, man. It  _ sucks _ .

==> Still, what he said to you that one time… well, you don’t remember. The gaps in your memory have started to actually be of concern, and Little Tom can’t help with filling the blanks because… well, he’s you. Edd knows about your issues, but he hasn’t said anything lately about them getting worse. Maybe now’s a good time to ask?

==> You say  _ hey Edd _ . He says  _ hey Matt _ . You grin, and ask him if you can ask him something. Edd says that you technically already did, but feel free to ask him something else.

==> Selection time!

==> ….Or wait. No. This isn’t an interactive story. I barely have time to update as is. So we’re just going to get straight to the point. Thank you for putting up with me.

==> You ask Edd how he feels about your memory issues. He raises an eyebrow; he’s never had an issue with it before, so why is it coming up now? You say no particular reason; it’s just something that’s been on your mind, especially with everything going on with Tom. Edd frowns a little;  _ why haven’t you brought this up earlier _ ? You say  _ well, there have been more… important things going on lately _ .

==> Edd’s expression lowers a little more; he says you’re not any less important than anyone else. Sure, Tom’s got a lot going on, but that doesn’t mean that Edd can’t worry about you too. You chuckle nervously; you’re touched, but he can tell you’re not quite convinced.

==> Little Tom looks at Edd, and back at you. Back to Edd, and back to you again. Hm. Perhaps he senses something you don’t?

==> You suddenly forget that Edd is sitting right in front of you, and slightly move your eyes to look at Little Tom instead. You’re trying to figure out what he’s emoting so hard about. You’re so concentrated on this, you don’t notice the shift in weight on the couch. You don’t notice Edd’s hands resting on your shoulders, the smell of grapefruit getting stronger as his face moves closer to yours.

==> The kiss throws you off. Despite the stiff dryness of the face mask, the kiss is soft and warm. Brief, but nice. Edd pulls away, hands remaining on your shoulders as you’re completely befuddled.

_ Little Tom! Why did you kiss me??? Now’s not the time! _

==> Little Tom’s face goes completely pale. Edd couldn’t be more confused. He squeezes your shoulders, asking you what you’re talking about. He asks you if you’re feeling alright.

==> _ Oooooh, now you get what you did _ .

==> You backtrack completely;  _ Edd, did you kiss me _ ? Edd’s mask cracks as he grins nervously;  _ uh, yeah _ ???  _ Is that okay _ ???

==> Wow, you really don’t know the situation you’re in, do you? You, quite nervously, mumble a  _ yes _ as you try to look at Little Tom for guidance.

==> Uh, except he’s gone.


	26. i wouldnt know my own internalized issues if they strangled me awake and pissed in my cheerios; a memoir collaboration by tord and twom, part 3; a bet with the devil but in this case twom is the devil. it really do be like that. oh yeah. part 3 of 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of inspiration
> 
> sweet sixteen - wherewolves
> 
> you guys asked for an update and well almost 2 months later i deliver  
> tbf i have been mostly MIA lately and for that i apologize  
> hopefully it wont take me two more months :pensive:  
> but for now  
> enjoy

No, Little Tom isn’t dead. How dare you assume that I would kill off one of my favorite characters.

Little Tom just… dipped. Got out of that situation quickly in the form of hiding under the table in the nearby kitchenette. Thankfully, when Matt is particularly smitten by something or someone, he has the object permanence of a newborn. This is how Little Tom is able to slip away and do as he pleases so much. It pays for Matt to be an airhead sometimes.

For now, Little Tom is trapped under the table. He can’t get up without catching Matt’s eye, he can’t signal for Tword to come and fetch him because he isn’t home. Hell, he’d even flag Twom down just to get out of this situation.

He peeks up, just barely able to see Edd and Matt… ah, they’re kissing again. Okay, fuck this, Little Tom is making a run for it. There’s not much for him here; maybe he can find company along the way.

\------

  
  


==> You are now Eduardo.

==> You told Pau you owned a suit. You  _ insisted _ . And yet he decided you weren’t dressed well enough and managed to get one tailored to you with an hour to spare before coming to this stuffy ass place. Seriously, you’re not used to a rich people atmosphere like this. You wonder how Pau acts so natural in this sort of environment.

==> Throughout this entire ordeal, you haven’t seen Tom or Tord once. Granted, yes, you two got there a bit later due to Pau being fussy, but you didn’t think you were sitting  _ that _ far away from them. Pau hasn’t really given you a lot of information either, and you suppose you can understand why, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gonna pester him about it.

==> You two are sitting on the opposite end from Tom and Tori (unbeknownst to you), posing as two colleagues out for some dinner. You’ve got a glass of wine, and Pau is balancing an overpriced cigar with some sort of craft beer. You two have had small bits of conversation here and there, but none of it has really answered any questions for you.

==> Well, whatever.

==> You let your eyes wander, taking in all of the people that could easily buy and sell your life in the same day. You are honestly trying to fathom why these people are the way that they are; you recognize a few controversial politicians, some socialites, and maybe a few other here-and-there public figures. You know that a lot of them are… well, pretty horrible. Granted, you can’t say you’re much better especially given the situation you’re currently caught up in.

==> Speaking of the situation you’re currently caught up in… is that  _ Tom _ ?

==> Wait, of course that’s Tom. You don’t know anyone else with fractures  _ that _ severe.

==> But… who is that with him?

==> You turn to Pau suddenly, who only raises an eyebrow and asks you what the problem is. You lean down, and  _ quietly _ ask him if Tom and Tord are really here right now. He says  _ yeah _ ?  _ Why wouldn’t they be _ ? You purse your lips, letting a beat of silence pass before you ask him who the beauty in the red dress is.

==> Pau says  _ I’m sorry, who? _

==> Pau pushes you aside, standing up on his own and just barely managing to not drop his cigar out of his mouth.

==> _ Ah _ .

==> An unfamiliar woman has her paws on Tom’s chest. Tom looks less than amused, as always, but you can tell he’s a little flustered. Between the two of them, the woman definitely seems like the sneaky, dominant type. You glance over at Pau, who looks like he’s about to redeem his ten-point punch card for anger management. Oof, you can almost see the smoke coming out of his cig--- ears. Ears.

==> _ You good _ ? You have the slightest hint of concern in your voice. Pau turns his head to you suddenly, really struggling to keep his neutral face.

==> _ Not good to stare _ , he says quietly. Might seem a little suspicious to be staring at a woman from across the room. Instead of trying to bicker with him and explain that you’re not a pervert, you both sit down.

==> Pau, quietly, takes out his wallet. You eye up the fake ring on his finger, the silver watch on his wrist that doubles as a communicator. You have a matching ring, but no watch. Damn, you really want a watch now.

==> What catches your eye is a small packet of paper nestled between some bills within the fold of his wallet. Wrapped in the paper was a dissolving tablet… of some properties Pau wouldn’t explain to you. Could be drugs, could be poison… you should really learn not to question him by now.

==> He briefly flashes it to you as a way of saying  _ I’ve got it _ and you nod silently. He takes a few bills out of his wallet before putting back in his pocket. He gives you the money, probably to be used as a bribe of some sort. Pau explained to you previously that your role is mainly to fish for information… or use the money to get out of any sort of trouble you might get into. You say  _ you think I’m a magnet for trouble _ ? Pau says  _ absolutely _ .

==> Your most pressing matter for right, however, is that Jon hasn’t left your sight. Normally, you see him wandering around or spacing out a window or something, but he’s been stuck to your side the whole evening. He hasn’t even taken time out of his busy schedule to make a stupid remark at you; you know  _ for sure _ something’s up, but there isn’t really a way to discreetly ask especially with Pau orchestrating your every move.

==> His expression hasn’t changed much either; same dopey smile on his face except he’s barely made eye contact.

==> Surely this can’t be suggesting something bad, right? Your night is weird enough; you’re practically on a date for some secret mission in exchange for Pau  _ not _ to chop your hands off. Maybe Jon  _ isn’t _ a real ghost and he’s just a representation of your nerves or something stupid like that. Yeah. That’s totally it.

==> Pau notices you spacing out and he snaps his fingers. It startles you a little, and he gives you a look  _ kindly suggesting _ that you pay attention to your surroundings.  _ Tord and Tom have a story, we don’t, which means anyone can sneak up on us _ .

\-----

==> You are now Pat.

==> Unfortunately, you weren’t invited to this party. At least not on the  _ inside _ . You’re stuck on the rooftop and making sure nothing goes wrong.

==> You have guns. You have some binoculars. Some bombs. Some notes. Something to camouflage yourself. A laptop to communicate with all of the rats planted into the party. Oh, and an 8 year old. For company.

==> _ Can I have a juice box _ ? You say  _ yeah, it’s in the crate next to the case for the binoculars _ .

==> If you had known Bing was going to pile on a babysitting gig with this, you would’ve taken Pau’s place in being a rat. Not like you had any problems with kids; you think they’re cute and lovable when they’re  _ not _ yours. The kid isn’t yours; according to legal documents, this little rugrat should be Tord’s problem. You and Pau just act as surrogate uncles whenever Tord’s away.

==> You sigh, lowering the binoculars from your eyes. Everyone who needs to be inside is accounted for. You finish off the checklist for people of interest that’s sitting near your knee. You lean back, laying down to look at the stars. You wish this could be some oddly romantic moment for, well,  _ whoever _ , but you’re stuck playing guard and possibly backup if something goes wrong.

==> The kid lays beside you, except his body is pointed in the opposite direction to yours. The sound of him sipping his juicebox breaks any hopes of taking in the nighttime silence.

==> Another thing you don’t get is why Pau was so insistent on having Eduardo with him for all of this. It would’ve been easy enough to have you and Pau together; you’ve been friends for years and can easily play off each other. But  _ no _ , he wanted the new guy. Maybe he’s mad because of you being busy all the time? It’s not your fault Tord keeps giving you work to do.

==> You hear the kid yawn next to your head. You say  _ hey Red, you can sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up if anything happens _ . Red shrugs; he says he’s fine for now. The whole laying down thing was enough to drag a yawn out of him, you suppose. You’ll be fine if he ends up falling asleep; the kid is tuned in with danger, and he’ll know it’s serious if you shake him awake.

==> You sit up after a few minutes, looking over at the laptop screen. Nothing from Tord or Pau yet. Judging by the silence, nothing’s going awry yet either. You really wish you took the time to make sure you had a boredom-healing backup plan. Honestly, you expected this to go wrong super quickly given that Tord has Tom and Pau has Eduardo. However, from the lack of reports, it seems to be going smoothly for now.

==> Man, you really wish you were in there right now. You also wish you could smoke, but you swore to Tord that you’d never smoke around Red.  _ Smoking’s a dirty habit _ , Tord would say with a cigar hanging from his teeth.  _ Don’t teach him to be a fuck up like me _ .

==> Oh Tord, he’s grown to be the very stereotypical adult he swore he wouldn’t be. War, drugs, and whoring around really takes a toll on one’s hopes and dreams. Despite his charisma, Tord has grown to be extremely bitter. On some occasions, you’ve witnessed him rule the group with a shaky iron fist. You’ve nursed him through his many breakdowns and breakthroughs alike. You and Pau have taken turns shielding Red from Tord’s many, many low moments.

==> It’s going to affect Red greatly if he never witnesses any of Tord’s flaws, but you know better than to talk back to him.

==> The soft tap of the juicebox on the roof indicates that Red has dozed off. That’s fine with you; at least you don’t have to entertain him if he decides to get bored.

\-----

In the midst of all of this party excitement, Tword and Twom had decided to step aside. Tord has instructed Twom to be on his best behavior, and he had enough sense to understand that this whole ordeal was pretty important. Unfortunate for Tword, Twom was prone to getting bored and, well, Tword was stuck with him for the night.

For the most part Twom was being bearable, aside from the bickering between them the past few hours mixed with some bits and pieces of meaningful conversation. It was a lot quieter without Little Tom to break the tension. In a weird sort of way, they had a nice chemistry when it was the three of them together.

“You even know what that guy is up to?” Twom asked, glancing at Tword trying to concentrate on his book.

“Other than pushing Matt to drop the big question? Not sure.”

“Ooooh, you mean  _ that _ .”

“Mhm.”

“Ah, young love.” Twom tapped his fingers on his flask. “Wonder when ours are gonna do that.”

Tword lowered his book and stared at Twom. “Excuse me?”

“You know, getting together, confessing love, mad makeout sessions?”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Oh please, don’t be so uptight. Tom’s got it for Tord real bad.”

“Tom would  _ never _ \---”

“And why are you so sure about that?” Twom leaned over to Tword. “Come on, that guy has the emotional restraint of a wet newspaper.”

“And what about Tord? He isn’t any better.”

“I’m not saying he’s  _ better _ , I’m saying that Tom would make the first move.”

Tword raised an eyebrow. “...Are you trying to make a bet?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Twom smirked. “You wanna make this interesting?”

“Alright. Fine. What do you want?”

“Oh my  _ god _ , I didn’t think I’d ever get you to do something fun for once!” Twom pressed his flask to his lips, trying to conjure something up. “But if you’re agreeing, that means  _ you _ want something. Spill it, Jehovah.”

“I want you to tell me what Tord has been doing to Tom.”

“You already  _ know _ \---”

“You know that is not what I mean.” Tword’s tone turned stern, and it was striking enough for Twom to lower his flask. “I know deviations when I  _ feel  _ them--- I  _ am  _ him!”

“Damn it, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask about it.” Twom sunk down, letting his back press against the wall.

“If I feel it compromises Tom’s safety, then I have a right to know; even if it’s through something as childish as this.”

Twom sighed. “Alright,  _ fine _ .”

“And your terms?”

“Well, if we’re really pulling out all of the stops…” Twom slid his flask into his hoodie pocket, picking his harpoon off the floor. “If you win the bet, I’ll tell you everything. But if  _ I _ win… you have to fuck me.”

Tword nearly dropped his book. “ _ Pardon _ ?”

“You heard me. You gotta have sex with me.”

“That’s it.”

“Yeah.”

“That is… all you want?”

“Duh. Do I have to spell it out for you? Fuck me. Or I’ll fuck you. Either way, someone’s getting something  _ in them _ \---”

“I get it, I get it!”

“So do we have a deal, or what?”

“...You’re being completely serious?”

“Oh my  _ god,  _ yes! Don’t make this more awkward than it already is.” Twom held his free hand out. “Shake on it.”

“Fine. Bet accepted.” Tword shook Twom’s hand, keeping his tone serious. “And… when this is all over, I  _ will _ know if you lie to me.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m a man of my word. No funny business this time.”

“And… I suppose you have my word as well. With your, uh, terms and all.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay-- ah, where did they go?” Tword turned his head, hoping to spot Tori or Tom somewhere in the crowd. Twom’s smirk grew just a little wider at the quick sight of blush on Tword’s face. 

“They couldn’t have gotten far. Party area’s small.”

“Yeah, but I just want to make sure Tom isn’t--- you know, being himself.”

“God, you worry too much.” Twom turned in the opposite direction, scoping the crowd for Tom and Tori. “Listen, they’re gonna be---”

“They’re gonna be…?” Tword turned to Twom. “Are you alright? Did you see something?”

Twom’s grip loosened, and his harpoon fell to the floor with a loud  _ clang _ . Tword picked it up and moved to get a better view of Twom’s face. His expression was strained, tears starting to trickle down his face. His body was stiff, his eyes focused on a figure a few tables away from them.

“...Is that…?” Tword caught wind of what Twom was staring at. Suddenly, Twom being petrified began to catch up to Tword’s own body. His grip on Twom’s harpoon tightened as he began to understand.

“That’s… that’s…” Twom stuttered, barely keeping it together enough to remain upright.

“That can’t be.” Tword took a step forward. “He shouldn’t be here. He---”

“I  _ know _ . But… w-why am I shaking?”

Both of them completely disregarded that Pau and Eduardo were finally getting up from their own table. Jon stood motionless next to Eduardo, staring at him as he walked away with Pau. Jon didn’t move; hell, it didn’t even seem like he noticed Twom and Tword yet. For once, Jon being blissfully unaware was working in someone’s favor.

“Look, listen,” Tword started. “There is  _ no way _ that’s really him.”

“And what if it is?” Twom’s voice was shaky. “What do I even do in a situation like this? He’s dead because of me---  _ Tord _ \---”

“Calm down. You are going to be okay.” Tword put a hand on Twom’s shoulder, trying to urge him to turn away. “Listen… perhaps he is like us? Like you, me, and Little Tom?”

“Okay, but… if that’s the case, t-then who is he with?”

\-----

==> Temporarily, you are a waiter.

==> No one specific; merely an employee observing the events of the night. The party has picked up, people have gotten up to mingle, get up close and personal, and to dance. It’s your job to serve as needed and keep an eye on things.

==> You’ve been a lot of people the past couple chapters; if anything, I’m doing you a favor. It’s a lot easier to sit back and observe than to partake, no? Of course you’d agree.

==> You remember seeing a married couple bickering earlier, but they seem to have separated to wander on their own terms. Perhaps they’re taking some time apart? The man with the weird eyes is talking to some of the younger patrons, exchanging smiles and snide remarks. He doesn’t appear to be drinking the wine with them, which strikes you as odd, but you suppose he’s trying to behave for his lady.

==> Speaking of which, she seems to be chatting up some of the older patrons of tonight. You suppose she has the looks and the charm to chat up men of such higher standing. Then against, you’re much too familiar with this bunch; they always go for the ones that are young and dumb. Perhaps they’re choosing to ignore her wedding band--- well, that wouldn’t be anything new.

==> You turn your head; the other two guests that stand out to you seem to have also gone their separate ways for the time being. The shorter one with the thick eyebrows seems to be snaking around a little, while the other one is trying to chat up the others. Trying. Not exactly succeeding.

==> The shorter one.

==> Oooooh.

==> He’s doing something naughty.

==> Sneaking a little something-something into the big wig’s drink, huh? He’s got some big ambitions.

==> As he turns around to sneak away from his little act, his partner seems to have gotten off on the wrong foot with some… bigger people. He doesn’t seem particularly good at keeping his mouth shut, and the patience of the others is wearing dangerously thin. You feel that, as someone who’s supposed to keep things under control, you should probably intervene. You know, stop a potential fight? Maybe switch out that drink because it’s either roofied or poisoned?

==> Nah. No. You’re not going to do that.

==> As if on cue, something else catches your attention.

==> The woman in the red dress, the married one, seems to have gotten into a bit of a kerfuffle on her own.

==> It seems that the men who she was talking to are a little more interested in the body in which the words are coming from than the words themselves. She has swiftly batted them away from touching her a handful of times already. Their advances are becoming more aggressive, and you fear it will get to the point where they may use force.

==> It seems that her husband has taken notice of this, and is now storming over there despite the protests and warnings from the younger guests. Two fights in one night? Now that’s something you don’t see every day.

==> The discourse on both ends grows more obvious to the party; some of the other patrons have started their own speculations and arguments. You feel the tension from your other colleagues, but you don’t feel a need to do anything yet.

==> The sound of a table falling and glass shattering catches the attention of everyone in the room. The shorter, thick eyebrowed man was pushed into it by a bigger man. He fell onto the floor with a thud, the taller man with him is currently being held back and  _ very _ sternly interrogated.

==> Oh god, the married couple are getting physical, too? You were lowkey hoping this would be an easy shift.

_ Larry _ .

==> Oh yeah, that husband knows how to punch. It seems like his wife is trying to hold him back to no avail. The eyebrowed man is trying to save his friend, only to be pushed away and faced with a knife immediately after.

==> Clearly there has to be a connection. These two pairs of people just happen to cause trouble around the same time? The coincidence is way too great to be ignored.

_ Larry! _

==> Oops, coworker’s trying to get your attention. Apparently the police are on their way.

==> We’ll have to cut your people-watching short tonight.

==> But I’m sure plenty more opportunities will spring up.

==> Just have some patience.

==> It’s not that hard.

==> We’re finally getting to the good bits, so don’t quit on me just yet.


	27. subtle gay tension. title as short as chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im jk theres nothing subtle about this LOL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this and the next two (or so) chapters will be this short or a little bit longer  
> just trying to fill in the holes for the timeskip between the party and the morning after  
> but doing it in small doses bc big chapters have been stressing me :( i figure smaller chapters are better than waiting months on end for updates, right?
> 
> you also may notice that i have refurbished the tags for the fic! added some necessary stuff. kept some of the funny stuff. added characters. etc. hopefully its a little less chaotic. makes my brain feel a little better
> 
> as always, thank you for reading!  
> thank you for your comments,  
> and any who draws me pictures  
> if i had the wallspace i would print them all out and hang them up  
> maybe someday :')

The only noise to fill the room was the multiple buzzing monitors and the sound of the clock above the door droning away each second. It was a pretty late night; tensions were high and heart rates were skyrocketing amid all of the excitement the night had to offer. Had. Right, most of this has already happened.

One elevated, bloodstained bed occupied the room. The need for a private room was necessary tonight, given the low number of casualties and… the nature of such things.

Pau stood outside of the room, door closed, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to enter the room unless he smoked at least three and he was barely through his second. Had he known that the night would have taken such a turn, he would’ve reconsidered the sequence of his plans. He was still in his suit, minus the jacket and some added scuffs, rips, and stains.

He let the cigarette fall from his mouth and he crushed it under his foot. He couldn’t stand here all night, no matter how bad he felt.

Pau opened the door as quietly as he could, but he couldn’t avoid the loud squeak that followed. The person occupying the bed stirred with a groan, but didn’t get upset. After a moment, Pau stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Maybe it was Eduardo’s seriously over-estimated bravado or Pau’s carelessness, but either way, someone was near death’s door. Just because one of these things may have caused things to go south does not necessarily mean it’s one or another person’s fault. Pau took full responsibility, as Eduardo’s keeper, but Tord had determined that no disciplinary action would be taken. For now.

“God, you smell.” Eduardo’s voice was quiet and coarse, but he’d be damned if he would pass an opportunity to take a shot at someone.

“Is it the cigarettes?”

“More than that.”

“Thought so.” Pau chuckled and stepped closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Loopy ‘n numb.” Eduardo didn’t attempt to sit up; all he could really do is avert his gaze to Pau to acknowledge his presence. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“For now. They stitch you up, too?”

“Yeah…”

“Mhm.” Eduardo got the business end of a knife shoved into his shoulder. Thankfully, it didn’t hit anything valuable and the medical attention was pretty swift. Still, Pau couldn’t get over if he was only a  _ little _ more careful, this accident could have been prevented. Despite that only being a fraction of the reason for all of the chaos, the group managed to keep their identities hidden. For now.

“You know, if things could have gone differently,” Pau began, once again breaking the silence, “I would’ve taken that knife for you.”

“Huh?” Eduardo raised an eyebrow. “But  _ I _ got stabbed. Not you.”

“I know.”

“Why would  _ you _ do somethin’ like that for  _ me _ ?”

“Lots of reasons.” Pau shrugged. “I’m a fast healer, I can perform first aid on myself… less paperwork?”

“You hate me though.”

“...I hate you?”

“Uh-huh.” Eduardo just about attempted a nod. “You almost killed me.”

“Hey, that was before I got to kn--- got you  _ into _ all of this. You’re valuable now.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’m serious. You’re in for the long haul now.” Pau sat on the edge of Eduardo’s bed. “If you think I’m going to let you die from some silly little knife wound, you’re mistaken.”

“Oh my god, I’m alive now, aren’t I?”

“A bit low functioning because of all those drugs in you, but alive.”

“Sleepy.”

“And sleepy. Which makes me wonder how you’re even awake right now.”

“Your  _ stink _ has a way of perking me up.”

“If we can call it that.” Pau chuckled as he stood up. “I’m going to leave you to get some more sleep. You’ll be briefed once you’re a bit more chipper.”


End file.
